


Monsters on the Top Floor

by my_unlikely_hero



Series: Monsters on the Top Floor [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Andrew is conflicted, Brief animal abuse, Drug Dealing, Kandreil - Freeform, King Fluffkins - Freeform, M/M, More tags to be added, Neighbors AU, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Riko is a dick in every universe, Sir Fat Cat McCatterson - Freeform, dont judge my self therapy techniques, everything I touch turns to violence, im sorry, kevin is usually drunk, neil is problematic, not that we can honestly blame him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:07:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 36
Words: 52,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9497654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_unlikely_hero/pseuds/my_unlikely_hero
Summary: A neighbors AU with our favorite runaway and monster!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is really a trial chapter! Unsure what to do with NvN so I'm trying this out for a bit. Just a short little chap for a fic I couldn't get out of my head :) 
> 
> Fair warning: I'm not really sure where this is going, but knowing me it will probably get dark and/or violent. Sorry (not sorry)

https://youtu.be/nz95faSxlw8 I didn't make the vid, it just gave me a little inspiration. This chapter is extra short… not sure how I feel about this, or NvN. Consider this a test run :)

 

A slamming door wakes him; the sound echoes through the shitty walls with the same ease as smoke. Andrew growls and mutters a hoarse curse-- the clock on his phone tells him that it's only 3am. His new neighbor is an early riser. A ridiculously early one-- what could warrant such ridiculous hours? Certainly nothing good. Not that Andrew cares. 

The footsteps fade and he can drift to sleep. It's the only good thing that comes out his medication-- at least he can fucking sleep. 

The footsteps come back some hours later-- earlier than Andrew would prefer. Why did he choose to rent such a shitty apartment? But then, you get what you pay for and the rent is cheap. Cheap enough for Andrew to afford a studio apartment on a waiter's wages. He had chosen the top floor of the complex in hopes of having a quieter space, but apparently not. 

He wakes again the next day to the same thing-- it's nearly 4 this time, so at least it's later than the previous morning. But there goes the idea of sleeping in on his two days off-- asshole damn neighbor. Thankfully he's at work the whole rest of the week, he usually has Tuesday's and Wednesday's off. So by the time he gets off work and to his apartment, it's nearly 7am, and Asshole Neighbor is already gone. 

The week is quiet. Asshole Neighbor is gone by the time Andrew gets to go to bed. He gets to pass out when his medication wears off and he sleeps and chain smokes cigarettes until his shift at Eden's Twilight starts. He almost forgets that it's an issue until Tuesday rolls back around and the neighbors door wakes him up at bumfuck in the morning. His phone says it's just after two. 

“Fuck this,” Andrew growls. 

He stands up, careless of being only in his boxers and armbands. The kid is just getting to the stairs when Andrew throws the door open. 

“What the fuck is so important at two in the morning?” He asks. The kid nearly trips down the stairs, he flinched so hard. 

“W-what?” 

He's dressed in wrinkled sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. A worn black bag is around his shoulders like an enormous leach. The kids black hair is a mess beneath the hood, which does nothing to hide his brown eyes and the dark bags beneath them. He looks about Andrew's age, and he looks like he hasn't slept a night in his nineteen years. 

“I said: quit slamming doors and waking everyone on the top floor up at two in the morning.” 

“I- sorry. I thought I was the only one up here.” The boy stutters. 

“You're not. *We* are, don't be selfish. Why do you wake us both up at such disgusting hours? Booty call? You know, if it's after 12:30, the call is for the dirty.” 

The other boy blushed furiously, but still looks confused. “Booty call?” 

Andrew shrugs, “fucking. Copulation.  
Sex. You know, boy/girl, girl/girl, boy/boy. And any combination thereof.”

“Oh.” His blush spreads across to his ears and down his neck. “I don't have a phone, so no. Definitely not a ‘booty call’. I'm not interested in that sort of thing anyway. I don't… swing.” 

Andrew quirks a brow. “So I can know your sexual preference, or lack thereof, but not your name?” 

At this, the boy pauses. He looks nervous now; hesitant. Andrew wonders. Interesting. 

“Neil Josten,” he finally mumbles like he doesn't want to say. 

“Now I know who's name to curse when you wake me up before dawn. Keep it the fuck down. Some of us actually sleep when it's dark out.” Andrew goes to close the door. 

“Wait! Um, what's your name?” Neil asks, tugging at his hair until it falls into his eyes. 

“Andrew Doe.” 

He waits for the usual reaction. ‘Doe, like an unidentified person?’ Or, ‘Doe, like you don't even have a real name?’ Instead, Neil nods once, face serious. He doesn't make any of the usual comments. 

“Sorry for waking you, Andrew.” 

Andrew slams and locks the door so he can go back to sleep. 

 

So maybe it was naive to think that their little chat would affect the acoustics and shitty insulation in the apartment. Andrew can hear every step from the winding stairs to Neil's door. Neil obviously takes more care to slowly shut the door, and his light footsteps are nearly silent-- but conditions have made Andrew a very light sleeper. More than once he wakes to his neighbor's door opening, and mistakes it for his own. It has him scrambling for a knife before he realizes that he isn't a little boy anymore, that Andrew is fairly safe in his own apartment. Usually he can grumble and go back to sleep. Sometimes he had to check that all three door locks are still in place and that he really is alone in his shitty little apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!!! Here, have another chapter :)

The interruptions stop as suddenly as they had began-- no more footsteps in the hall outside his door, no more slamming doors. It was like Neil had gone again, except sometimes Andrew could make out the rare clatter of pots and pans and a voice cursing over the noise. Sometimes the stink of burned food wafted it's way to Andrew's apartment. 

Andrew appreciates being able to sleep on his weekend, though he is mildly curious about the sudden change. But he doesn't go out of his way to ask. He just doesn't care that much. Andrew gets off shift at Eden's around 6, and goes out to breakfast with Renee. He drops her off at her apartment and ignores the suspicious glances her girlfriend sends him. Allison has never liked Andrew, and gets suspicious every time she sees Renee with Andrew. 

He sees Neil again as he walks into the building. The kid is just a few steps ahead of him, stumbling to the elevator. He sags against the wall without pressing the button for the top floor. The bags under his eyes from those weeks ago are darker now, swollen and purple like bruises, but not. His face is pale, he looks like a zombie movie reject. 

“How long has it been since you've slept?” Andrew blurts before he can stop. 

“Whu?” The kid mumbles. He looks over at Andrew, his eyes blurry and unfocused. 

“Are you going for a new record, or are you some kind of junkie? I don't care either way. I don't have anything worth stealing, anyway.” 

“What? Sorry, what? I didn't realize someone else was in here. I thought you were one of those shadow things,” Neil nods towards Andrew's black ensemble. 

Funny kid. And that answers his question too. Usually people don't start seeing shadows until two or three days without sleep. The kid looks ready to pass out. Andrew hits the button to take them to top floor and the kid sags against the corner. 

“I haven't heard you stomping around at disgusting hours of the morning.” Andrew says, eyeing the kid. 

“Hmm? Oh. Oh, I got a job working nights. So, uh, hopefully I won't be keeping you up when I get up for work, and I get off at seven. Hope that works for you.” Neil mumbled almost incoherently. 

Still, Andrew gets the distinct impression that the last comment was sarcasm. 

“How long has it been since you slept?” Andrew wonders again. 

“‘M fine,” Neil slurs. 

“That is not what I asked.” 

Neil takes a long moment to consider. The elevator dings and the doors slide open. 

“Few days, I think. Maybe three, maybe four. Not sure.” 

Andrew makes a noncommittal noise. He opens his own door lock and watches Neil fumble with the key. His hands are shaking too much to fit the key in the slot. Andrew sighs and shoves the kid aside. He jams the key inside and twists. 

“Go to bed, idiot.” He mumbles to Neil, who nods slowly. 

“Thanks, ‘Ndrew.” 

Neil closes the door and Andrew waits to hear the lock click into place before he enters his own apartment. He showers and lets himself think about Neil's pretty face, and his ass as he had walked in front of Andrew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CANT BELIEVE YOU GUYS LIKED IT SO MUCH! You're all seriously so amazing :) 
> 
> Whatcha think?? Let me know!! Comments give me motivation! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god do people actually subscribe to me????? You're so amazing I love you so much!!! Also, Neil was originally going to be a night auditor at a hotel lmao. But someooooone commented something that made me change my mind. (I'm looking at you, jos10)

“Hey Neil!” Matt bounds up, grinning and as excited as a puppy. Neil wonders how high he is right now. 

“Hey, Matt. Good morning.” 

“Morning! How'd you do last night? Dan did great as always. Lucky. Of course, if I was a babe I might get more customers, too.” 

Matt is a drug dealer, and a good one at that. Easy going, but large enough that nobody really gave him a hard time anyway. His girlfriend is a stripper about a block from where Neil had taken to standing. Dan is decidedly less buff, but could definitely kick someone's ass up and down the block. Neil had seen her knock the teeth out of some asshole who had dared to touch her. 

For this side of town, they were surprisingly good people. Matt tended to stay close enough to keep an eye out for trouble in the strip club, and to make sure nobody fucked Neil up too bad. 

Occasionally Matt ran into people desperate, asking if he could recommend an easy lay around nearby-- a prostitute. And the strip club often had men and women who were too drunk or handsy or both, and got thrown out by security. When they got in customers that wanted a quick blow or something, and didn't seem like a tool, they sent them to Neil. 

The ‘customers’-- the johns-- hadn't been rough with him, not really. One of the men had pulled his hair too much and gave him a headache, and a woman had slapped him a little but he was used to abuse. He never let anyone fuck him, so the johns and janes weren't usually too rough with him. The worst he got was a sore throat and bruised knees. 

“It was fine.” 

“‘Fine’ he says,” Matt rolls his eyes. 

Neil shrugs. He doesn't like what he does for money but he hadn't liked being abused and beaten in Baltimore, either. Nobody would hire a 18 year old kid with no paperwork and Neil has been a missing person for eight years. He couldn't afford to draw attention to himself. So Neil will do as he always does-- keep his head down and his mouth shut (figuratively). Nobody really paid much attention to a whore. 

“So what are you doing tomorrow? Some of us are going to Eden's for Dan’s birthday-- Allison is buying, don't worry,” Matt adds with a nudge. Neil flinches away from the contact. Matt hasn't hurt him yet, but Neil has only known him a few weeks and he's come to expect violence from the people in his life. 

Allison is a woman several years older than Neil (everyone seemed to be) and owned the nearby strip club, and at least one other bar in town. Probably several more businesses, but Matt and Dan never went into detail. Neil suspected most of her money came from selling drugs, but he knew it wasn't his place to ask. 

“Oh-- umm, I don't know. What is Eden's?” 

“Eden's Twilight is that club a few blocks over. One of the johns took you over there yesterday, I think. Big brick building, with that huge line around the block?” 

“Clubs aren't really my thing.” Neil shrugs. 

“But being led down dark alleys is? Come on, kid, rule number one: don't turn down free booze. Allison is loaded, she can afford to get us drunk. Take a night off with us. Get drunk and forget that you've had, like, a dozen dicks in your mouth tonight. It'll be good for you-- you can't say no. I'll meet you there Thursday at 11pm. Allison will make sure you're on the list.” 

“Oh, well in that case,” Neil rolls his eyes with a wry grin. 

Matt's laugh is giddy with cheer and whatever drug he's high in. It's vaguely like Lola's, but Neil forces himself to shove those thoughts deep down. 

“Yes! Sweet! Awesome, bro, I can't wait. Dan is expecting me soon, but let me walk you to your building. This neighborhood is kinda sketchy.” 

Neil shrugs, uncaring. Everyone here pretty much knows his face by now, and he hasn't gotten much hassle after the first two weeks. But Matt isn't one to take no for an answer when he thinks he's helping a friend. 

It's still dark, but getting lighter as they walk. The homeless men and women nod to them in recognition, and even a few of the other degenerates that were selling drugs or themselves. They were popular trades in this neighborhood. 

Matt chatters animatedly about what he should get Dan for her birthday. He wants to get her an engagement ring, but he worried that it's too soon. He considers a necklace, but he doesn't know if she likes those, because she never wears them. And wouldn't they tangle in her long hair? He doesn't know, but her hair is incredible long and curly, it tangles in everything. Maybe he should buy her a bracelet. Or earrings? Are her ears pierced? Matt says he will have to check. 

“Hey! Before the party, can you go shopping with me? Be a bro! I have no idea what I'm looking for. And you're good company, too. Better than Kevin, the bitchy bastard.” Matt's tone is much lighter than his words. Neil doesn't know who Kevin is. 

“What makes you think I would be any better at shopping than you?” Neil wonders aloud. 

“Because you're gay. Gay guys are supposed to have good taste, right?” 

“I'm not gay-- I'm not anything. I'm not interested in that stuff. And I don't think that someone's sexual preferences make them any better or worse at shopping than anyone else.” 

“Whoa! Sorry, I didn't mean to offend or anything. I just-- it's a stereotype, you know? My bad.” Matt apologizes profusely until Neil waves it off. 

“It's fine. I just don't swing. But I'll go shopping with you if you want. I don't think I have anything planned, but I'll have to check my busy schedule.” 

“Ha!” Matt laughs giddily at Neil's lame joke. He seems to like Neil's sarcasm. They stop outside Neil's apartment complex and Matt ruffled Neil's hair before he goes. 

“See you tomorrow, buddy! Same time, same place. Stay safe!” 

Neil takes the stairs two at a time and tiptoes past Andrew's door. He flops onto his bare mattress and sleeps fitfully.


	4. Chapter 4

That becomes their new routine. Andrew meets Neil at the door, who is sometimes escorted by a tall man with dark skin and hair, and a very white smile. He would even be attractive, if Neil weren't standing next to him. Andrew recognizes Matt as one of the many drug dealers in their neighborhood. But he doesn't seem to look as good when he stands next to Neil. Neil, who is too pretty for his own good, who doesn't sleep more than ten hours a week, and wears ugly brown contacts. 

“Hey Andrew.” 

“Neil. Matt.” 

Thankfully Neil doesn't seem to be the chatty type, and is content just to walk in silence. Andrew leads the way upstairs this time, and Neil leaves Matt at the door. Neil still looks sleep deprived, but the bags under his eyes aren't nearly as dark today, and he manages the lock on his own. 

Inside his own apartment, Andrew locks the door and bolts on the top and bottom. He doesn't have anything to cook, so he pours himself a bowl of lucky charms and chocolate milk. It doesn't go very well with the taste of cigarettes but his need for nicotine is is a strong motive. 

He strips his black clothes and armbands, avoiding looking at the mess of scars on his forearms. The shower doesn't get very hot in this shithole, but it was still nicer than half of the foster homes he had stayed in. 

Next door, Neil gargled with mouthwash and turns the shower on cold. He scrubs at his skin until it's raw and red, ignoring the scars on his torso and the dark bruises on his knees. He's shivering when he gets out, but it's better than the ghost feeling of hands pulling at his skin. 

When Neil sleeps, he dreams of being held down and Lola's vicious cackle in the dark. He can see his father walking towards him with his favored axe swinging in his grip. Neil's chest tightens with a scream he can't let free. 

‘No, no, don't please! Please! Don't touch me, let me go.’ Neil begs but his lips can barely move. He feels something phallic shoved down his throat to gag him. It chokes him, he can't even breathe around it. 

Nathan doesn't even bother answering, just shakes his head in disappointment. Nathaniel is a walking reminder and a side effect of the worst mistake Nathan had ever made. Mary had been the worst mistake of his life. 

Lola is still cackling around him. Nathan swings his axe up and down in an arc. He starts at Nathaniel's feet, going up in segments. Neil can't scream. He can only choke on the thing inside his mouth as his father dismembers him. 

Neil wakes with a gasp. He bolts up to search for the monsters he dreamt of, but the light is coming in through the window and it is painfully obvious that he is alone here. The clock on the wall tells him it's only eleven in the morning-- only three hours of sleep. 

Neil knows that sleep is no longer an option. He resolves to another long day, and an exhausted night on the street later. He wraps himself in a large hoodie that covers every bit of skin and brushes his teeth to rid himself of the taste in his mouth. His stomach growls and reminds him that eating is a good thing. 

Neil is still shaking when he searches the cabinets for something edible. He finds a box of macaroni and cheese, with no milk or butter in the fridge. There is a few eggs left in the fridge, and he figures there are worse things than scrambled eggs. 

Even as Neil cracks the eggs into a pan, he can't shake the feeling of something being… off; wrong. He keeps glancing around his little studio like he's expecting to see someone appear in the corner. He stares at the door every few minutes, sure that one of his father's men is going to burst in. He can see it in his mind like a foreboding premonition. 

Neil's chest feels tight, like a weight too heavy to move. His skin feels too tight and all of his scars are burning. He feels like he can't get enough air into his lungs, and the room spins around him. He keeps turning to check the corners of the studio, because he knows he isn't alone. There has to be someone here, his father's men are going to get him, the Moriyamas are going to send Nathan to cut him to pieces. 

The thought makes his heart stutter-- he can hear it hammering in his ears, runrunrunrun. Nathan killed his mother, and he will be back to kill Nathaniel. To torture him and make him sorry for ever daring to leave. The room tips around him, and Neil drops down to the floor with his head between his knees. He is going to die alone in a shitty apartment, under a fake name, remembered by nobody. He doesn't know why he thought he could ever make it on his own. He tries to breath but he can't, hecan'thecan’thecan’t… 

It's the screaming of the fire alarm that brings Neil back to reality. He comes back to find himself curled on the floor with his head between his knees and his hands fisted in his hair. The eggs are burning in the pan on the stove, a lump of stinking black charcoal. The smoking he had originally thought was the smell of his mother's burning body is actually the eggs. The screaming he had heard was the smoke detector. 

 

Andrew wakes to the obnoxious squealing of the apartments fire alarms. He scowls deeply as he fights nausea and forces his shoes on. Now that he's awake he can smell the stench of burned food coming from his neighbor's apartment. Neil is walking down the stairs when Andrew leaves. His arms are wrapped tightly around himself and his head is bowed down. He looks guilty. 

“Something tells me I should be blaming you for this.” 

At Andrew's voice Neil whips around. His face is pale and his eyes bloodshot and puffy. It looks like he's been crying. Andrew knows what the aftermath of a panic attack look like. As he gets closer, he can make out the trembling in Neil's hands. 

“Sorry. I tried cooking some eggs. It did not go well.” 

“I'll say.” 

Andrew follows Neil down the stairs. He's careful to stay several steps back, mindful of his neighbor’s anxiety and personal space. The other tenants are not as considerate. There aren't many people around at the middle of the day on a workweek-- mostly just old people, and angry mothers with screaming babies. Neil holds himself tighter as people file out, and tugs nervously at his hair. 

“You seem to be making a habit out of waking me up,” Andrew accuses. 

Neil looks at him with wide brown eyes. The rings around his contacts are obvious. 

“I'll work on that.” Neil says. It sounds like sarcasm. 

“Work on waking me up more, or on NOT waking me up more? Answer carefully. I know some great places to hide a body.” 

“Oh? Stake out any construction sites lately?” 

“Nothing so cliché.” 

Down in the street with the rest of the tenants, Andrew watches Neil watch the people around them. His eyes flicker from one face to the next, searching. He sees Neil's eyes flicker up and down the sidewalks, and tracing the gaps between clusters of angry people. He watches the fire trucks and policemen with the same suspicious glare, pulling his hood up over his head and low over his face. Neil reminds Andrew of a wanted man. Everything about the boy subtly whispers interesting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm shocked at how many kudos I get??? Do you guys really like this fic that much?? Oh my god!! <3

Wednesday morning brings Andrew to Neil's. The boy in question isn't back yet, but Andrew has no trouble picking the lock. The room is very similar to Andrews own. A small kitchenette against the wall, two small windows and a mattress on the floor. No television, no couch, and one rickety kitchen table with one wobbly chair. 

To reach the fire detector in the living room Andrew has to drag the kitchen table over underneath it, and then the chair on top of that. It's a little precarious to be balanced on it all, but he manages. The screwdriver is making quick work of the alarm when the door opens. He can actually hear Neil startle at the sight. 

Neil's head aches from where a john pulled his hair too tight, and his throat is sore for the same reason. Neil always makes them wear condoms but he still feels dirty. He just wants a shower, and to go to bed. He doesn't even have anything here to eat. Neil just wants to go to sleep and forget he exists for a few hours. It's a shame that sleep has never been so kind to him. 

His hands shake almost too much to open the door. Neil isn't expecting to see someone in his apartment at 7am, and when he sees Andrew there, his mind tricks him into thinking it's his father. A split second later, he recognizes the blonde balancing precariously on Neil's table. 

Andrew looks down to glare at Neil. He's dressed in holy jeans that hug his tight body with every curve. His shirt is just as tight, but the sleeves are long and it's much less revealing. Odd, considering that it looks like Andrew could tear those jeans away with ease, leave them in shredded pieces. Andrew's thoughts stop immediately-- he won't let himself go there, he won't be like *them*. 

“Andrew? What are you doing? Aside from breaking and entering.” 

“Fixing your smoke detectors.” Andrew answers, with that manic grin. 

“They work fine. I think the test run yesterday proved that.” Neil states up at Andrew like he expects him to fall. 

“Exactly my point. I refuse to be woken up by your lack of culinary skills. I'm taking preventive measures.”

“I think that's against code or something,” Neil points out, seeming unconcerned. 

“This is my caring face. Really. Anyway, Wymack doesn't care. As long as we don't burn the place to the ground,” he sends a pointed look to Neil. “Or deal drugs out of the building, he mostly leaves us alone.”

Wymack seemed like a gruff man, but he had been kind enough to let Neil stay with no credit, and no references or paperwork. And he didn't ask questions when Neil paid his rent in cash, with mostly small bills. 

The chair wobbles and scoots on the table top. Neil eyes the thing with caution but Andrew seems unfazed.

“If you fall, I'm not going to catch you.” 

“You wound me.” 

"You'llbwound yourself if you fall." 

"Your concern is touching." 

Andrew finishes with whatever he was doing to the smoke detector and jumps down. He leaves the furniture tower to Neil. Then he helps himself to the fridge, because he's hungry and Neil owes him at least breakfast for all of the times he woke Andrew up, and this morning's free labor. Though, that was probably a charity to the entire building. 

“What are you doing now?” Neil wonders. 

“Looking for food. You fridge is empty as fuck.” Andrew scowls and begins searching through cabinets. Neil lets him. 

“Good luck with that. If you find anything edible, let me know.” 

Andrew turns to glare at him. “Don't you ever eat? Though, that would explain why you're so damn skinny. And short.” 

“I'm taller than you!” 

“That doesn't make you tall, either, though.” 

Neil grumbles about bitchy midgets and privacy issues under his breath. “Are you done now? I just got off work and I'm exhausted.” 

“Off from work at…?” Andrew leads him on. 

A dose of panic flares in Neil's chest. He thinks quickly-- years on the run with his mother taught him how to think on his feet, and how to lie well. However, he's never had to sell himself before, and the question is difficult to get past when the word echoes in his ears, and rests on the tip of his tongue. Whorewhorewhorewhore. 

“I’m, um, I work downtown.” 

Andrew quirks a brow, motions for him to continue. 

“I'm a waiter.” At least that might explain all of the tens and twenties he kept in cash. 

It's obviously a lie, but Andrew figures it doesn't matter. He'll figure it out on his own, eventually. Neil couldn't keep his secrets forever. 

“Whatever. See you around, Neil. You're welcome.”

“Thanks, I think.” 

Neil is left alone to disassemble the furniture. He showers until his skin is scrubbed red and thinks he needs to invest in more mouthwash and toothpaste. He goes to sleep with his stomach growling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys.... WHAT ABOUT KEVIN!?!? 
> 
> I don't know. Kevin obviously has ties to Andrew, rather than Neil in this fic. Sooo... is he another bartender? Is he going to be their new neighbor? Is he some alcoholic that Andrew puts up with for a random reason? I don't know either. I have literally no plot in mind (yet I've prewritten up to chapter 7? Wtf, self?) 
> 
> So! Who do you think Kevin is? How does he come into play here?? Let me know what you think :) <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking of introducing the cats soon. Thoughts?

Matt, Dan and Allison meet Neil at Eden's Twilight. The club is surprisingly busy for a Thursday night. The bass is loud enough to thump in Neil's chest, making his bones feel the beat. The men and women around him are dressed largely in leather and buckles-- Neil stands out in his jeans (the only pair without holes all over them) and his long grey shirt. 

It takes a while to find his group, already settled at the table with a tray of drinks. Matt is talking animatedly while Dan laughs and Allison sips her drink. The colored lights twist shadows around them, and it takes several minutes for Neil to push his way through the crowd. He thinks he hates this place already. There are too many people, and too many distractions. There are too many places that Neil could be drug away to if his father found him. He maps out the exits he sees and searches the dancing crowd for familiar faces from his past. 

“Neil! Hey, over here!” Allison waves him over. 

Her platinum hair is curled and her nails look long and painted. Her dress probably cost more than Neil's rent. 

“Hey guys.” He slips onto a stool beside Matt. 

He would prefer to have to have his back against the wall but that isn't possible in a club like this. 

“Happy Birthday, Dan.” 

“Thanks Neil! 23 this year,” she grins, proud. 

“How are the night classes going?” Allison asks her, letting Neil settle into silence as the others talk around him. 

Dan rants about the struggles of classes on a strippers salary, and the difficulty of her courses. Neil isn't sure what her major is, but he sips on a drink quietly and tries not to be drawn into the conversation. His green drink burns of alcohol and tastes a little sour, but it's still too sweet for his liking. The tray is nearly empty by the time he finishes his glass. The girls are chatting about some sports team Neil knows nothing about and Matt is lining up the rest of the shots, pouring little powders into them. The girls notice but don't seem to mind. 

“Is that cracker dust?” Alison wonders. 

“Yeah! I figured even Neil wouldn't mind a little.” 

“What's cracker dust?” Neil wonders. 

“Just a powder you swallow. It's kind of sweet, kind of salty, and gets you a good kind of high. It works best with alcohol, and you don't get addicted. You get a bit of a hangover later, but some water and food usually fixes you right up.” Matt explains. He seems to have extensive knowledge on the drug, but considering his occupation, Neil supposes that he would. 

“Oh. No thanks. Drugs aren't really my thing-- I rarely even drink.” 

“Speaking of drinks, ours are getting quite empty.” Allison complains. “Whoever goes to fetch more can put them on my tab.” 

“I'll go,” Neil volunteers just so he can leave for just a moment. 

He takes the tray and empty glasses with him while the others drink their shots. It gives Neil a chance to survey the room again. He doesn't recognize any of the faces until he gets to the bar. A familiar shock of blonde hair grabs his attention. 

“Andrew?” 

“Neil.” Andrew turns around with that same medicated grin. “Funny. I didn't think you for the party boy type.” 

“I'm not,” he admits. “It's a friends birthday, I sort of just got dragged along.” 

Andrew takes the tray and wipes the sticky residue away. He talks while he works. 

“You're with Matt and Dan and Allison.” 

It's not a question, but Neil nods anyway. “Yeah. I'm just fetching drinks. I don't know what to order them, though. Just a soda for me, please.” 

“I hate that word,” Andrew tells him. 

“Which word? Please?” 

“That one,” he nods. “Don't say it again.” 

“Okay. So do you know what they want?” 

“Yeah. Here.” Andrew slams a sealed can of soda on the bar in front of Neil, and a glass with ice. He lets the kid pour it himself, and goes to mix the other drinks. 

Neil only has to wait a few minutes, but he turns away two separate women and one man who tried to ‘insist’ on buying him drinks. The man only leaves when Andrew sets the tray on front of Neil and levels the guy with an icy glare. He glances at Neil. 

“Is he bothering you?” 

Neil nods quickly. Andrew turns back to the guy. 

“He isn't interested in you or your disappointing sex. Go fuck off somewhere else.” 

“Fuck you, midget.” The guy growls but grudgingly leaves. 

Andrew picks up the tray and balances it with ease. He comes out from behind the counter and back around to Neil. 

“I'll walk you to your table. Clear a path.” 

“Oh, uh. Thank you.” 

His group looks up when they notice Neil. Then they see Andrew behind him and they scowl. 

“Hey Andrew. What's up?” Matt asks, almost defensively. Neil wonders if Matt has issue with Andrew. 

“Oh no, don't worry your silly little heads. I'm not here for you. Neil is a trouble magnet and I'm just here to make sure he doesn't get molested while fetching drinks.” 

Matt looks back at Neil. The girls sort their drinks. “You okay?” 

“I'm fine,” he tells Matt. “Thank you, Andrew.”

The blonde shrugs and walks back to the bar. 

“No really, are you okay? Usually Andrew doesn't intervene until things get serious.” Matt prods. 

“I'm fine. Some guy at the bar wouldn't leave me alone, but Andrew scared him off. Not that it was serious-- he wanted to buy me a drink but I'm sticking mostly to soda tonight.” 

“Huh. Okay. That's good, but kinda weird. I've only seen Andrew get into two fights since I've started coming here. One, this girl was struggling against this guy, obviously drunk or drugged or something. Andrew jumped over the bar and just beat the shit outta the bastard. I mean, he deserved it but damn.” Matt takes another shot of cracker dust with his tequila. 

“And the other time?” 

“Well nobody really saw the other thing except for some of the bouncers and a bunch of cops. But I guess a group of guys-- like four or six or something. A lot. The guys drug his cousin out back and beat the hell out of him. They almost killed the poor guy because he's gay. Somebody got Andrew and he just, like, tore them to pieces. I heard all of them went to the hospital with a bunch of serious injuries; broken bones and internal bleeding. I heard he stabbed a few. Guy is nuts, though. I would watch out if I were you.” 

“Thanks.” 

“No, really, Neil. Rumor has it he went to juvie for four years, until he aged out of it. And that he's seriously medicated now because of that thing in the alley. He's a psycho.” 

Neil didn't think that Andrew seemed like a psycho. The manic smile reminds him too much of Lola, but that was probably the medication. Still, can't find himself to be frightened of the man who ‘fixed’ his smoke alarm, and teased him almost daily about Neil's bad habits-- about running too much, about not sleeping or eating enough. 

Neil considers all of the things he's seen in the past-- the things his father and his men have done while they made Nathaniel watch; like when Nathan had butchered his mother. He thinks about the things they made Nathaniel do and had done to him ‘for his own good’, when he was still a child in Baltimore. He thinks about the things he had to do to escape Nathan's men when they caught up to Neil and his mother in California and Florida and Washington. Neil wonders what his friends would think of him if they knew any of it. They would probably call him a psychopath, too. They certainly wouldn't worry about Neil's safety in a club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm writing chapter 10 now. And I think I'm going to have to add some tags. So make sure the check for that before you read the next chapters. Just for your own, individual mental wellbeing. I don't want to trigger anyone but I seem incapable of writing anything that isn't absolutely horrific. Sorry (not sorry)


	7. Chapter 7

It's dark out and the stars don't shine through the city's light pollution. The sidewalk looks yellow under the streetlights and neon signs. Neil endlessly paces the same street, wishing he had anything better to do. Matt isn't around tonight so he doesn't even have anyone to talk to. He finds himself thinking about Andrew. 

A car pulls up beside Neil and motions him over. They go over prices and Neil asks if he's a cop. The man says no and Neil nods to an alley nearby. The john agreed and pulls over, likely because he doesn't want to make a mess of the interior. 

He yanks down his jeans and Neil kneels before him on the damp and filthy ground. He slips a condom over it with difficulty-- the man's member is limp between his legs. If Neil has ever doubted his asexuality, the sight of the johns limp and stinking dick is enough to reassure him. 

Neil thinks about his growling stomach, rather than what he's doing here on his knees. He's starving and he hasn't eaten in a while. He had nothing yesterday, and he isn't sure if he ate the day before. He thinks he should probably stop by the store for a few essentials. Maybe he can stock up on ramen. 

The john still isn't hard on Neil's tongue, and the grip in Neil's hair tightens. He growls in frustration. The hand in his hair pulls Neil's head back, and away. Neil glares at the john. 

“What's your problem?” Neil snaps. He just wants to get paid and go home. 

“What kind of whore can't suck cock right?” 

“It's not my fault you can't get it up.” 

“Hey, fuck you, whore!” 

The john swings a fist down into Neil's mouth, and he topples down to the alley floor. The guy kicks him, boot landing in Neil's ribs. He scrambles to his feet, and dodges the next swing before a left hook catches Neil in the eye and he stumbles against the wall. A strong punch to the cheek sends Neil to the ground. The john kicks his ribs a few times and leaves Neil on the ground. 

Neil's stomach aches and his face is throbbing. The john spits at him and walks away, and Neil takes a moment to make himself stand. He really needs to eat something soon-- his arms tremble and threaten to buckle under his weight. 

“Fuck.” Neil curses under his breath. 

He holds his aching ribs and walks back to the street. He wipes his bleeding lips on his sleeve and glares at the traffic light for a while. It's only maybe 1am, he hasn't been out but a few hours and that asshole was the only customer he had. Neil is still hungry and still has no money for food. His body aches all over in throbbing pulses and he has no painkillers at his apartment. He resigns himself to stay out for several more hours. He tries to wipe all of the blood from his face but he thinks he probably just smears it around a little. 

The night is warm, at least. Better than his month is Colorado, where he was freezing cold all night long. But that's the only perk about Columbia. The cars drive buy, and a few slow down for him but turn him away when they see his bruised face. His lips have stopped bleeding, he thinks. But he can feel his eye and lip swelling. 

Matt doesn't return like Neil had expected. He must have stayed the night at Dan’s, or maybe gotten to a party or something. Neil waits until the sun comes up, staying out even later than usual out of desperation. He hasn't gotten a single john since that one bastard beat him up. Like it was Neil's fault the fuckers dick wouldn't work. But nobody wants a whore with a bruised and bleeding face. 

The walk to his apartment is longer than usual. His ribs are aching and probably bruised, but he doesn't want to look and flash his scarred stomach in public. At least his legs don't ache. 

His apartment door is unlocked when Neil gets there. He opens the door with caution, expecting to be jumped by his father and DiMarcio, or maybe Lola and Romero. Instead, Andrew is sitting on Neil's kitchen counter with a foam container and one of Neil's forks. Neil closes the door but doesn't lock it. He doesn't want to be locked in a room with Andrew. He hasn't hurt Neil yet, but still he errs on the side of caution. 

“What are you doing here?” Neil asks. 

“Eating. You should do the same.” Andrew tilts his head to another foam container beside him. 

“Why?” Neil looks suspiciously at the food. He's starving but he he wonders why Andrew would do something like this. The breaking and entering is much less surprising. 

“What happened? I thought Boyd was supposed to guard your pretty face.”

“I asked first.” 

“My question is more important. And don't be rude-- I brought you breakfast, eat it.” Andrew says, not unkindly. 

Neil opens the lid with caution. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but it isn't two large breakfast burritos. Neil is eager to eat them, but he remembers where his hands have been and goes to wash them. 

“So is ‘night waiter’ a dangerous occupation?” Andrew asks with that wide grin. It's clear that he didn't buy Neil's waiter lie. 

Neil shrugs. “Someone tried to mug me but I didn't have any money. So he just smacked me around a little.” 

Andrew nods. “Yes, something about your face does scream ‘hit me.’” 

“Thanks,” Neil tries to roll his eyes and flinches instead. 

They settle into a moment of silence while they eat. Andrew got him something with lots of egg and sausage and peppers. It's spicy but filling. Neil has to keep himself from scarfing it all down. Though, he still tastes latex in the back of throat. Maybe he should have washed his mouth out first. 

“These are good. Where did you get them?” Neil asks. 

“Sweetie’s.” Andrew tore off another bite of burrito and tossed it in his mouth. “Where did you really get those bruises?” 

“Why does it matter?”

“It doesn't,” Andrew says quickly. “Hand me your phone.” 

“I don't have one,” Neil says like it's obvious. If he doesn't have groceries, why would he have a phone? 

“You don't have a tv, or bedsheets or phone. What do you have?” Andrew squints at Neil. It sounds oddly accusing. 

“My amazing personality.” 

Andrew laughs maniacally. Surprisingly, Neil finds himself smiling. He liked the slope of his neck as he leans back just that little bit. And he way his full lips curl into a not-quite smile, and how delicate his cheekbones look. His eyes look pretty, even with the sleepless bags beneath them. Neil finds himself thinking that Andrew doesn't look unappealing.


	8. Chapter 8

“Holy shit, Neil! What happened?” Matt yells from nearly half a block away. 

“What?” Neil wonders. He feels fine. 

Neil had kept a frozen washcloth on his face and the swelling had gone down, leaving only bruises. The ones on his face weren't that dark-- the guy hadn't been very big or very strong, Neil had just been weak. His ribs hadn't even bruised badly.

His lips were cut up from scraping against his teeth, but they weren't bad. Neil could still work, at least. And Andrew had snuck in a loaf of bread and some peanut butter and jelly while Neil had been out, so he isn't starving. Overall, he feels better than he has in days. 

“Your pretty face! What happened?” 

Neil shrugs. “I ran into someone's fist a few times, but I'm fine.” 

“Well, shit. The one time I don't keep track of you, you get beat up. I'm never letting out of my sight again.” 

“That could get awkward.” 

Matt laughs and shakes a pill out of bottle in his pocket. He wears those cargo pants that have pockets lined all over them, and Neil doesn't know how Matt keeps his drugs straight. 

“Here, a painkiller. Not a heavy one, I promise. Unless you want something stronger. Consider it an apology for not being around to back you up.” 

“It's fine.” Still, Neil swallows the pill dry. 

It was nothing new, anyway. His father had done much worse to him before. The Butcher of Baltimore was a monster-- a real one, not the kind of monster Matt had claimed Andrew was. Neil had the scars to prove that. Andrew seemed angry, sure. Probably depressed, as well. But so far he hadn't jumped from the roof or threatened Neil with the knives he carries in his armbands. Neil thinks maybe has a different scale of ‘monster’ than Matt and the others do. 

_________________________

Some asshole had Kevin backed into a corner on the dance floor, and Andrew could just barely see it from his spot behind the bar. He dropped his order and ignored Roland asking what was wrong. He shoved people out of his way and was not at all pleased at the sight before him: Kevin, near panic and obviously drunk, had been shoved up against the wall by some prick with dark hair and cruel black eyes. The resemblance to Riko was obviously triggering Kevin into complacency, and he let the bastard touch him however he wanted. 

Andrew grabs a handful of shirt and forces the guy to turn around-- to look at him, instead of Kevin. Kevin, who is vaguely dissociating and obviously shaking. He steadied the man with another grip on his shirt. With his free hand, Andrew draws a knife from his sleeve and presses it against the man's stomach until he feels skin cut under the pressure. The medication makes Andrew grin, but he turns it into a sharp and vicious baring of teeth. 

“Didn't your mother teach you how to treat a lady? I believe Kevin told you ‘no’.”

The guys eyes snap to Kevin in an accusing glare. 

“Hey! No, don't look at him. Look at me-- If I ever see you touching my things again, I will make you sorry.” 

“Easy, bro! He didn't mention he had a boyfriend.” 

“He doesn't, and he shouldn't have to. No means no. Don't make excuses.” Andrew warns and shoves the man toward one of the bouncers. Whenever Andrew comes out from behind the bar, security is close behind. They don't their club to get bloody, after all. 

Andrew snags Kevin by the wrist and leads him away. “Come along, Kevin.” 

Andrew leads him outside to the main street. He allows Kevin to sag against the brick wall, panting and trying to hide his face. His hands are shaking as he holds himself together. 

“Hey. Kevin. Kevin. Kevin, look at me.” Andrew grabs Kevin's chin and forces his gaze to meet Andrews. “Riko isn't here. I am never going to let him have you. Do you understand? I promised you that I wouldn't let him touch you. Do you trust me?” 

It takes Kevin a moment, but he nods. 

“Good. Come on.” 

Andrew hails a cab and lists Kevin's address to the driver. The alcoholic is leaning against Andrew and he shoves him off. Kevin leans against the door instead. 

Kevin's apartment is more upscale than Andrew's is, but Andrew only cares for function, not the view or the plush carpet or the provided furniture. Though, the security is a plus. He walks Kevin to his apartment and opens the door. He dumps Kevin inside and stays only long enough to make sure that the idiot isn't going to choke in his own vomit. 

The taxi is gone when Andrew walks back out into the night. He knows that Roland would cover for him and Andrew doesn't want to return to Eden's Twilight tonight anyway. He walks his way home as he chain smokes cigarettes and listens to sirens wail around the city. Slowly the upscale neighborhood becomes darker and trashier, leading the way to Andrews own apartment. Most of the people know not to fuck with him and he walks in peace until he hears a scream from an alley. It's followed by the laughter of young teenagers and Andrew scowls. 

Two boys, maybe ten or twelve years old, were holding two small balls of fur by the tails, and shaking them. The larger furball laying limp at the boys’ feet would be the mother, supposedly. The kittens were screeching, frightened and in pain. The boys laugh as they shake them. The sound grates on Andrews nerves. One of them drops an orange kitten onto the ground and looks like he's going to stomp it-- Andrew throws the thing closest at hand, a bottle from the trash can. The bottle smashes and breaks against the little demons cheek. The boys don't even stay to fight-- they drop the other kitten and take off running down the other side. 

“Sick little fucks.”

Andrew scowls down at the kittens as they waddle their way back to the mothers body. They're skinny, pathetic little things. Their fur is unmatted but they're skinny and hungry looking. The mother looks worse. They probably have fleas. They're dirty from the alley and the blood. They'll die within a day or two. Andrew tells himself he should leave them.

Even if he takes them home, chances are they'll die anyway. They're too young, their eyes haven't opened yet. The last time he had taken a kitten home, it had died within the day. Of course, that had been Drake’s fault. 

It takes several long minutes of mental debating before their pathetic cries get to him. Andrew gently picks them up and places them in the front pocket of his hoody. It's warm enough out, for February, but the kittens are shivering. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the only person he can rely on to answer. 

“Renee. What do baby cats eat?” 

Renee, thankfully, has to sense not to sound surprised. “I'm not at the office now, but I can be if you'd like.”  
She sounds tired. Andrew looks at the clock-- it's nearly 4am. He probably woke her but he doesn't care. 

“No, not yet. If they make it through the day I'll bring them by after I get up again. What do I need to give them?”

Renee lists some supplies for him to get at the store, an improvised list of things that she will replace as soon as Andrew brings them to her volunteer Veterinary office. Andrew hangs up when he gets to the store. 

Back at his apartment, the kittens are still mewling pitifully. At least his studio is warmer than outside. Andrew sets them on a blanket and goes to warm up the milk. Andrew will have to try feeding them with a wash cloth, since they're still young enough to be nursing. It takes some coaxing, but eventually he gets the two little beasts to gum at the cloth and drink up the milk. He has to be careful not to over feed them, and when he finishes he has to massage their bellies to help them digest. 

They kittens are quiet now that they're fed and warm, and Andrew takes them to the sink one at a time. He washes them carefully, massaging the flea soap into their soft fur and rinsing with a cup of water. Andrew dries them with a towel in front of the heater where they won't get too cold. 

Under the dirt, one is calico and the other tortoise shelled. He read somewhere that it means they are both likely female. Not that he cares.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ya go!!

When Kevin sleeps, it's because he's passed out from exhaustion or alcohol. Roland and Andrew give him one hell of a discount for his drinks, and Kevin tips them well in return.

But when he's awake, not even his Prozac can keep the thoughts of Riko out of Kevin's head. It's like part of him is still trapped in California, still trapped beneath Riko and well guarded by the other Ravens. Some days it feels like Kevin never left. More often, it feels like Kevin doesn't really belong here in Columbia, with his own apartment and his own life. It feels like Riko is going to come and drag him ‘home’ again. 

Some mornings, Kevin wakes up anxious and panicking for no apparent reason. Maybe from dreams he doesn't remember. But he wakes up hungover and sick, heaving into the toilet and waiting for something bad to happen. On mornings like this, Kevin grabs a bottle of vodka from his freezer and drags himself to a taxi. He gives the driver the address to Andrews apartment complex and drinks as much as he can in the short drive. 

“You're too young to be drinkin’ so much, kid. You even legal?” The driver asks. 

“Yes,” Kevin snaps. “Not that it's your business.” 

“It's seven in the mornin’ pal. You got issues.” 

Well, Kevin can't argue that. “Shut up.” 

He throws a few bills at the cabbie and stumbles his way upstairs. It's been a week since that bastard corner him and Kevin thinks he can still feel hands on him, sometimes. Though, those may be the ghost of Riko’s touches. 

“Andrew!” Kevin bangs on the door but Andrew isn't back yet. Strange. 

Kevin uses his emergency key to let himself in. He forgets to lock the door behind him and he goes to look at the newest addition to Andrews small, depressing studio apartment. A cat tower, and along with a food and water dish, and a pile of blankets. Kevin stops and stares in awe at the two tiny balls of fur, curled together on Andrews pillow. 

“Oh my god!” Kevin gasps. 

He lets the bottle fall from his hand and luckily it has the cap on when it lands on Andrews mattress. Kevin stumbles and falls to the ground with a loud crash. The noise wakes the kittens and they let out soft and sleepy mews. Involuntary tears spring to Kevin's eyes as he coos and stares at them. 

Kevin stares at them as he lays on his back, too drunk to properly stand. He manages to prop himself against the wall, sort of. The grey kitten waddles from the bed, fat and fluffy with sleepy little eyes. It mews again softly, and Kevin feels his heart clench at the cuteness. His breath hitches and Kevin finds himself uncontrollably sobbing as the kitten climbs its way up to Kevin's chest and curls on top of him. 

Kevin is careful to pet it gently as he cradled it to him. He doesn't hear the door open because of his crying, but suddenly a strange boy is standing in Andrew's doorway. 

“Um, who are you?” The boy wonders. 

“Kevin. ‘M a frien’ o’ ‘Ndrews.” Kevin's slurring is almost unrecognizable through the alcohol and the tears. 

“Are you okay? I heard you fall I thought someone might be hurt.” 

“‘Nrew has ca’s? Beby ca’s? Holy shhhhit! Tha’s so *soft* o’ him. The’r so *soft*!” 

“Uh, yeah. Does Andrew know you're here?” Neil asks. He wonders if this is an ex boyfriend or something. He seems to be dangerously intoxicated. 

“Who’re you?” Kevin slurs. 

“Neil. I'm Andrew's neighbor.” 

“Oh. Din’ know ‘Drew had a ne’ber.” 

“Yeah…. if I could borrow your phone, I could call him for you.” 

Kevin waves a hand messily. He wakes the kitten with the motion, and it mews in annoyance. 

“Awwwww!” Fresh tears spring to Kevin's eyes. “Oh m’god! I'm s’rry. ‘M so s’rry.” 

Neil stands awkwardly in the doorway while Kevin apologized profusely to the kittens. Neil is baffled by the spectacle and he stands there making sure everything is okay until Andrew arrives. He stands next to Neil and silently shushes his neighbor. Andrew pulls out his phone and begins to record Kevin. 

“Sir Fat Cat McCatterson!” Kevin exclaims as he sobs into the calico’s fur. “An’ King Fluffkins!” 

“Andrew? Do you know this person?” Neil wonders. 

“Unfortunately. Kevin. What are you doing?” 

“‘Ndrew! I named y’ur ca’s! This one’s Sir Fat Cat McCatterson! N’ this one’s King Fluffkins!” 

“They already have names. Cat one and cat two.” 

“‘Ndrew! Those aren't cat names!” 

“Shut up Kevin, you're drunk. What are you doing here?” 

“Came t’ see you. Ovv- Oliv- obi- fuck.” Kevin fails. "Hey! Di' you know that Nimp- Nin- fuck. N'polion was actually a n'rmal sise for th' time? Hiss shortnesses a liiiiie." 

“You've said that before." Andrew sounds exasperated. "I just got off work. I'm not dealing with your alcoholism. Go home.” 

“Bu’ Riko--” Kevin starts and stops. He looks wide eyes and frightened. 

“Riko isn't here. You have a security team around your building that all know what he looks like and that he isn't allowed in. He isn't coming near you.” 

“Bu’ he needs me. He'll make me go back an’ he- an’ he’ll-- fuck. Andrew. I don' wanna go back.” 

"Don't be stupid. He's have to get through me and I'm not letting him take you back." 

Andrew gently takes Cat One and Cat Two from him and hauls Kevin to his feet. Neil makes sure they make it safely down the stairs before he goes to bed. Throat hurts and he can't get the taste of latex out of his mouth. 

Neil considers going back to bed, but his curiosity gets the best of him. He stays up waiting for Andrew to return. When he hears the door open and slam shut, Neil goes and knocks on the door. Andrew looks irate, but then he always looks some sort of annoyed. He glares at Neil. 

“What?” Andrews meds are wearing off and he wants to sleep before he gets nauseous. 

“Who's Kevin?” 

“An alcoholic. Is that what you can over for?” 

“What did you think I came over for?” Neil wonders with a tilt of his head. 

Andrew shakes his head and banishes the lustful images of Neil. “I'm not having this conversation now. I'll come get you later.” 

Andrew slams his door in Neil's face. He sleeps fitfully for a few hours before giving up and showering again. His skin turns red under the cold water and his scars stand out a stark white. He accidentally catches his reflection in the mirror and a shudder runs over him. Neil has always hated his reflection, the reminders of Nathan and Lola and the others. Neil uses his spare towel to cover the glass. 

He has to wait hours before Andrew wakes up, and he startles at the loud knock on his door. Without a word, Andrew crooks his finger for Neil to follow and leads him up the stairs to the roof. Neil assumed the door was locked, but Andrew must have rigged the lock because it opens easily. 

“So who is Riko?” Neil asks first. Andrew lights a cigarette before he answers. 

“The leader of a gang-- the Ravens. They're mostly California based, but it looks like they've been expanding their territory. I've been seeing a few Raven tags popping up around the city. Riko happens to be Kevin's adopted brother, and former lover.”

Neil is silent for a long time, baffled and mildly disgusted. Finally he asks, “how does that work?” 

Andrew gives him one of those distrustful, probing looks. Neil is beginning to learn what that look means, and he doesn't like it. 

“Kevin's mom was friends with Riko’s Dad. When she died, she made sure that he got custody of Kevin. Only, Moriyama senior doesn't like kids. He's some kind of businessman, travels a lot, and that left Riko and Kevin under the not so tender care of Riko’s uncle. I guess between the abuse and abandonment, something snapped and he turned all that hate on poor little Kevin. And Kevin is too much of a coward to fight back.” Andrew hates that his medication makes him ramble. 

“Then why is he here in Columbia, instead of California?” 

“Because of me.” Andrew grins viciously. He wipes his thumb over his lips like he wants to wipe the smile away. 

“You?” Neil takes in all five feet of Andrew, obviously doubtful that anything Andrew could do would stop a gang. 

“Yes me. You sound doubtful. Not my problem.” Andrew shrugs. “You'll have to get the rest out of Kevin, though he doesn't show his face around here unless he's drunk off his ass.” 

“I noticed. He loves cats.” 

“Not particularly. He's just a mopey drunk.” 

Andrew flicks his cigarette over the edge and wanders back inside. Neil sits on the edge and watches the traffic below, considering the story Andrew had told him, and the warning Matt had given him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments!! I love comments!! Thanks so much, everyone!! Hope you enjoyed drunk/sappy Kevin naming the cats. Kevin is sooo hard to write. Let me know what you think!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have another chapter!! You guys are so great!!! <3 also, did everyone read the new tags? For future chapters.

Neil's night is (un)pleasantly busy for a weekday. Matt and Dan had sent a few johns his way, and Neil had spent a good long while on the ones from the strip club-- apparently alcohol gave some men performance issues. One of them had smacked Neil but the john was drunk and Neil was quick to take his money and run. Neil is getting used to being abused again, like fitting on an old pair of shoes. Some assholes just hit him because they can-- Neil is quick but small, and nobody cares about a whore. 

Neil wanders down alleys for quick blowjobs and when he runs out of condoms around 4am, he finds himself at Eden's Twilight. He idly considers going inside, just to see Andrew. Instead, one of the johns Neil vaguely remembers from the past two months, noticed Neil and motions him over. Neil follows because really he has nothing better to do. 

The guy is fairly nice, has never slapped Neil or kicked him while he knelt on the ground. He is even careful not to pull his hair too hard or to violently shove his dick inside Neil's mouth. But he is chatty. 

“Hey! I've been waiting in this line forever and it's obviously going nowhere. How about we pop down the alley for a sec, and I pay for a consolation blow? At least then I get a little action out of tonight.” 

“I'm out of condoms. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow.” 

“I have my own! I mean, if that works for you. I was hoping to get drunk and bring some girl home, but I guess you're all I can get tonight. I mean, not that that's a bad thing! You're almost as pretty as any girl they let in but I just mean--” 

“It's fine.” Neil has to interrupt or the guy will keep stuttering all night. 

“Oh! Sweet! I mean, lets just, uh. Yeah.” 

The alley around the side of Eden's Twilight must be a popular hookup spot because the ground is already littered in condoms. Neil hates to think about what he's kneeling in. The guy pulls a condom and thirty bucks from his wallet. He hands both to Neil. When he rolls the condom on, the guy is already half hard in anticipation. 

Neil is used to the taste of spermicide and latex and he swallows the john down whole. He ignores the murmurings above him as he bobs his head and relaxes his jaw. 

“God, you're so hot. You're so pretty like this. God, I'm so glad I ran into you. You're way prettier than those girls in the club. God, you're so good at this.”

Another couple-- two men, one stumbling drunk-- come out the side door of the club, bringing pulsing bass and the smell of booze with them. By now, Neil is used to ignoring people unless they're cops. Most don't bother when they see a boy on his knees. 

Neil recognizes Kevin and quickly decides he doesn't care. The john he's with always tips well and Neil is tired of starving. Maybe Kevin is too drunk to recognize Neil, or won't remember in the morning. Out of the corner of his eye, Neil watches the bigger man press Kevin against the bricks, not gently. Kevin groans and grips at the wall in front of him. Neil concentrates on making his john cum so he can leave before Kevin notices him. 

The john comes quickly and Neil pockets the money. Kevin's eyes meet Neil's and he knows Kevin noticed the transaction. Ashamed, Neil hurried to leave. 

“N-no, st’p.” Kevin slurs even worse than he had that morning a week or so ago. 

“Shh. This won't take long. Be good.”

Neil doesn't like the sound of that. 

“No, stop!” Kevin says again, louder and only a little less slurred. Probably sobering up with fear coursing through him. But the asshole still has him pinned against the wall, working at Kevin's pants and grinding against his ass. 

“Let him go,” Neil says. The john is gone and it's just Neil facing against a man that's probably over a foot taller and at least one hundred pounds heavier.

Neil scowls. He can't make himself walk away, though that would be the easiest option. Even if it wasn't Kevin pinned against the wall, Neil couldn't make himself let this one go. 

“What, you can't find someone willing to sleep with? With a face like yours, I understand that it must be difficult. Because seriously-- you are one ugly fucker. But just leave the drunk guy alone.” 

He steps away from Kevin and rounds on Neil with a vengeance. 

“You little fucker!” 

Neil is used to bigger men coming after him, but his moves are all defensive, and running away. He had never been brave enough to hit his father or his mother. And Neil refuses to run now, to leave Kevin alone to his fate. He has no real way to fight back when the stranger pins him to the wall by his throat and starts punching Neil across the face. Neil kicks and swings back until he lands a hit and the man lets him go. 

Every instinct is telling Neil to run, but he goes to stand in front of Kevin. Kevin, who is either passed out or too drunk to stand. Neil can't tell which. 

“Fuck off before I call the cops.” 

The stranger scoffs. “You're a whore, whores don't call cops. But you can make it up to me. Come bend over for me and I'll leave pretty boy alone.” 

The door opens behind them but Neil doesn't dare look away from the man. 

“Go fuck yourself.” Neil spits blood onto the ground between them. His face and torso are throbbing from the punches the man landed. 

“Yeah, listen to pretty boy. Fuck off.” A familiar voice sounds behind him. 

“You're gonna take a whores side over mine? I know the owner of this shithole! She’ll fire your ass so quick.”

“This is my caring face. Really.” Andrew says.

“I'll be back for you, whore. Ravens don't forgive shit like this. Better watch your back.” The stranger warns Neil and leaves. 

So much for anonymity. He supposed it would have happened sooner or later, but Neil would have preferred later. When he had already left the city and moved on. 

“Those were some very unimaginative insults,” Andrew comments to Neil as he lights a cigarette. 

Neil shrugs. He has nothing to say to that. He waits for Andrew to tell him to find a new place to live-- that he doesn't want to be affiliated with dirty whores. 

“Come on, help me get Kevin to a taxi.” 

Neil blinks for a moment, shocked, but obeys. Andrew grabs one side and Neil grabs the other. Kevin is deadweight between them, passed out drunk. Neil stumbles under the weight, making his injuries ache all the more. He ignores the pain and helps Andrew hail a cab. They drag Kevin into the back seat between them and Andrew gives the driver an address for one of the nicer neighborhoods. 

In silence, Andrew pays the driver with cash from Kevin's wallet. They carry him past the security guards and front desk personnel-- they must be used to this happening because they don't bother them. 

Kevin's apartment isn't anything fancy, but it's far nicer than anything Neil has stayed in since his mother took him from Baltimore. The carpet is white and plush, and the matching furniture looks expensive. Andrew dumps Kevin on the couch, turned on his side so he doesn't choke. He places a waste basket in front of him. 

“What does Kevin do?” Neil wonders as he looks about the apartment. Kevin didn't look the type to be a high-end businessman. 

“Drink.” Andrew answers honestly. 

“No, I mean how does he afford this place? I didn't think he was the successful businessman type.” 

“He's not. His mother left him an inheritance. It seems he's trying his best to drink it away, too.” 

Neil hums in acknowledgment but doesn't reply. 

Andrew helps himself to the kitchen and Neil follows quietly. He watches as Andrew begins to brew a pot of coffee. When he finishes, the blonde hops up to sit on the island. He beckons Neil closer, and pulls him between Andrews open legs. Neil allows Andrew to grab his chin and survey the damage 

“You'll live. Unfortunately.” 

Neil shrugs. “I've had worse.” 

The blonde hops down to search through Kevin's fridge. Most of it is fruits and veggies, but he finds a pizza hidden at the bottom of the freezer beneath bottles of booze. He pops it in the oven without reading the instructions. Then he wets a cloth in the sink. Only then does he turn back to Neil. 

“Don't move,” Andrew warns Neil before he steps closer. He wipes at the blood under Neil's nose and on his lip and chin. 

Neil is tense, as if waiting for another blow. But Andrew doesn't look malicious, though he isn't exactly gentle, either. Neil takes this moment to study Andrews pale features-- his pale skin and high cheeks, the bow of his lips and the hazel of his eyes. He thinks he wants to see Andrew smile without all of the medication in his blood. He thinks he might want to get to know the real Andrew beneath it all, but Neil will be long gone by then. 

Andrew throws the cloth in the sink for Kevin to deal with. Neil is still careful to be still while Andrew has his back to him, searching through the freezer again. He tosses an ice pack to Neil. 

The smell of coffee is overwhelming and Andrew pours some into two mugs. He pours milk and a disgusting amount of sugar into one and hands the other to Neil. It's a good thing he drinks his plain-- did Andrew already know that?

“So when you said you didn't didn't swing, does that mean male, female, animal or mineral?” 

“Anyone. I think I'm probably ace or something. I don't know. I just-” Neil pauses to think. Then he shrugs. “I know when someone is good looking, but I don't ever think about sleeping with them.” 

“Then why did you help Kevin? Most people would have walked away. They don't care what happens in the dark. Out of sight, out of mind and all that.” 

Neil shrugs. “I wasn't going to let that happen. Nobody deserves that, I couldn't just ignore it.” 

“Not because you want to fuck him?” 

“No. I know you don't believe me but I don't care about that. He was in trouble and I wasn't going to walk away from that.” 

Andrew looks like he wants to ask more, but he doesn't. 

“What about you?” Neil asks suddenly. 

“What about me?” 

“What are you… interested in?” 

“I'm gay.” Andrew glares at Neil. He's expecting some sort of verbal backlash but Neil stays silent for a few minutes. 

“I always wondered how people knew they were gay or straight or whatever,” Neil admits. 

“You see a man or woman or both and you think “I'd like to put my dick there.” 

It startled a laugh out of Neil. “That sounds gross,” he admits. “Why would anyone want to do that to a stranger?” 

“That's why you are asexual.” 

Neil smiles again. “Well, thanks for reaffirming that for me.” 

When the pizza is done they eat in silence. Andrew makes sure Kevin is still breathing before they leave and they walk to the complex together. Neil briefly considers what Andrew said, and wars against his own appreciation for the blondes physic and aloofness. He find it strangely reassuring that Andrew seems to have no agenda for him, violent or otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theoretically, Andrew offers Neil a deal. What do you guys think they would agree on? I'm kinda stumped. Ideas?


	11. Chapter 11

On Wednesday afternoons Andrew drags himself out of bed to attend mandatory, court ordered group therapy. Shortly after that are his private sessions with Betsy Dobson. 

Andrew sits through group in silence, as always. One of the new members-- a girl with dyed hair and track marks-- won't stop crying. Andrew is the only boy in the group, and he doesn't relate to any of them except maybe Renee. He tunes out everything that the other members have to say. 

“Andrew, would you care to share?” The counselor asks, clearly not expecting much after all these months. 

Andrew just gives him a bored look and continues to play with his pen. He talks more in his private session. 

“Hi Andrew. How are you feeling today?” Bee asks politely as she mixes their hot cocoa in their mugs. Andrews has a frownie face, Bee’s is yellow with a plump bee and a flower. 

“My new neighbor is a fucking idiot.” 

“Neil? What did he do this time?” Of course she would remember Andrew complaining about the kids poor sleeping and eating habits. 

Andrew sips his cocoa and waves a hand. “He tried to play white knight again. Kevin got lured into the alley behind Eden's by some sick fuck and Neil got between them. The guy was over a foot taller than him but Neil thought he stood a chance. He must be suicidal.” 

“Or maybe he just saw someone in trouble and decided to help, regardless.” 

“Against a man twice his size, and no fighting skill, from what I could tell. Other than being a distracting punching bag.” 

“Then it's a good thing you were there to help him,” Bee smiles from behind her mug. 

Andrew swallows his cocoa and scoffs. “This time.”

“Are you considering taking him under your protection too?” Betsy wonders.

She knows that Andrew has taken Kevin under his protection from the Ravens and the rest of the world. She has a theory that Andrew has a soft spot for people in trouble, stemming from his childhood. Nobody had ever helped Andrew when he needed it, so he helps those who he deems worthy of his time. Kevin could pay Andrews rent, and in return Andrew would keep him safe. She wonders what kind of arrangement Andrew would make for Neil. 

“Maybe,” Andrew allows. “He's stupid, but brave. I may have use for him.” 

“I think it would be good for you to branch out more, and that's all I will say about that.” She smiles gently again. “Now, how have you been sleeping?” 

 

_______________________

 

Andrew considers what Betsy had said as he stops for groceries. He loads a cart of junk food and necessities and pauses by the electronics section. Andrew had asked to see Neil's phone the other day, but Neil didn't have one. Andrew picks up a phone that matches the one he bought himself-- a grey flip phone with the basics for calls and text. He adds it to the cart. 

The checkout guy is chatty and flirty, giving Andrew a once-over that makes his skin crawl. 

“I don't associate with assholes.” A lie. 

“That's fine, you can just come over for a little Netflix and chill. No need to ‘associate’.” The jerk winks at him. 

“Fuck off.” 

Andrew takes his bags and goes. He activates Neil's phone on the walk back to the apartment. He adds it to his plan, mostly because he can afford it and Neil obviously cannot. It's not because Andrew is being kind or whatever. Really. 

It's because the kid has been beaten up twice in the last two months and if he keeps doing stupid things on his own, he's going to get himself killed. And then Andrew will eventually get a new neighbor, probably one who slams doors and plays loud music and shoots up because that's the kind of neighborhood they live in. He would rather have Neil, who is fairly quiet and keeps the same sort of general schedule so he doesn't wake Andrew. It's just more convenient to give Neil a phone so the idiot can call if he needs help. 

Andrew drops the groceries off in his own apartment and listens for a clue that his neighbor is in. But Neil may as well be a cat for all the noise he makes, save the random-hour runs he insists on. Andrew programs his phone number into the new cell and knocks on Neil's door. 

It takes a moment for him to answer, hair still dripping from the shower and his skin a vicious pink, though the water doesn't get that hot in the apartment-- he must have scrubbed his skin raw. The bags under Neil's eyes are swollen and dark, telling of many sleepless nights. He's too damn skinny and his cheekbones look hallow. Neil looks like shit, like he hasn't eaten or slept in days. Out of habit Andrew lets his gaze drop to Neil's wrists, but they're covered in a long sleeved shirt. No searching for self inflicted wounds today. 

Still, Neil smiles when Andrew pushes by and lets himself inside. There is no furniture beside his bed so Andrew perches on the kitchen counter. There is no way in hell he will ever sit on someone else's bed. Neil is getting used to Andrews seemingly random visits and simply follows after. He leans against the counter a good arm's length away. Just enough to be able to run if Andrew decides to reach for him. It's a recurring action that is beginning to bore Andrew. 

“Here.” Andrew slides the phone across the counter to his wary neighbor. 

“What's this?” 

“A cell phone. Most people have them, in fact. That one is yours. I already added you to my plan, so don't worry about that.” 

Neil gives Andrew a distrustful look, and pointedly does not pick up the device. He seems almost afraid to touch it. Andrew wonders about it for a second. Neil has some very interesting issues. 

“I'm not looking for a sugar daddy. Sorry.” 

Andrew grins like Neil said something funny. “I'm not interested in a sugar baby, either. Take the damn thing. I don't care if you never use it, just keep it in case you need it.” 

“I'm fine without it, thanks.” Neil doesn't except things that are offered so easily-- he's learned that lesson the hard way. 

“Says the boy with bruises on his face.” Andrew darts out to poke one of said bruises. Neil scowls, but lets him. 

“You're even more annoying in the afternoons.” 

“I know right? It's the meds. Deal with it.” Andrew snarks with another grin. He hops off the counter and searches through the cabinets and fridge again. They're all empty, just as Andrew had suspected. He leaves the phone on the counter and leaves, pointedly ignoring Neil telling him he didn't want the damn thing.

When Andrew wakes up the next morning, the phone has been slid under his door. He returns it the same way, and so begins their game. By Sunday, Andrew tires of it. He leaves the phone in a bag of groceries-- just a loaf of bread and some more peanutbutter. Surely Neil won't turn away free food when he's starving. 

On Monday morning the food is still on on Neil's doorknob where he left it, and Neil hasn't returned from ‘waitering’. On Monday afternoon, the bag is returned, still full, on Andrew's own door. Not one to force someone into much of anything, Andrew lets Neil go-- for now.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the fluff :)

Kevin makes good use of his ‘emergency’ key and stumbles into Andrew's apartment. It's broad daylight by now, but Andrew and Neil might as well be vampires for the hours that they keep. Andrew is fast asleep when the turning of the knob wakes him. Years of abuse and conditioning make Andrew bolt from the bed with his knife in hand. 

“What the fuck, Kevin?” Andrew grouches, knife still firmly in hand. 

“Hey. W’re ya sleepin’?” Kevin slurs mildly. Andrew watches him take another long pull from the bottle of vodka in his hand. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Kevin shrugs, wavering on his feet. “Dunno. Din’ wanna go home. Riko.” 

“Don't even say that name to me today unless you actually saw him or one of his stupid thugs.” Andrew warns. He forces himself out of bed and sheaths the knife. 

“No. No’ yet. Bu’ he'll come f’r me.” 

“Did you at least bring me coffee?” 

Kevin shakes his head and stumbles. 

“You're an asshole,” Andrew glares at him, watching Kevin make his way for the cat tower. 

Cat One and Cat Two have woken with the noise and perk their heads up to stare. Kevin coos at them. 

“I rem’mber you guys! Hiiiiii.” 

“Um, is everything okay?” Andrew turns to find Neil standing in the doorway. The sweatpants and shirt he wears are baggy but Andrew finds them to be mildly distracting. 

“Kevin was just leaving. He forgets that some of us do more than drink all night.” He points another glare at Kevin. 

Neil leans in the door, clothes wrinkled and hair sleep-ruffled. His eyes look sleepy, but Andrew somehow doubts that Neil had gotten any sleep. The boy is the personification of insomnia. At least the idiot hadn't gone out jogging. 

Andrew releases a heavy sigh. He knows he won't be getting any sleep now. He makes his way to the kitchen to make coffee. 

Kevin takes the kittens from their perch-- a fuzzy blanket stuffed inside the cave of the car tower. He drops onto the floor with the both of them. He takes the colorful little calico and cuddles her to his chest, oh so carefully. The grey tortoiseshell waddles its way across the small room, and Neil catches her before she can make her escape. Neil closes the door and follows after Andrew. It looks annoyingly domestic, the sight of Neil sleep-ruffled in his kitchen, with bare feet and a cat purring against his chest and batting at his hair. Andrew glares at him and turns to Kevin. 

“Leave Cat Two alone and go get trashed in your own apartment.” Andrew says this mostly because antagonizing Kevin is better than staring at Neil. 

Kevin gasps loudly, cuddling Kind Fluffkins even closer. With the other hand he drinks more vodka. At least it was after noon this time. “H’r name’s King Fluffkins.” 

“You can barely say King Fluffkins. Her name is Cat Two.” 

“Kiiing Fluffkiiinsss,” Kevin whines a little and slurs a lot. 

“Cat Two.” 

“Kin’ Fluvvpkinsss.” 

“Cat Two.”

“King. Fluff. Kins.” 

Andrew pauses for effect. “... Cat Two.” 

“Andrewwwwww!” Kevin whines at him. 

Behind them, Neil giggles. Andrew turns at the sound. Neil is cuddling Cat One up to his face, hiding his smile in her soft grey fur. But his eyes are squinted and bright with amusement, and a little wrinkle in his nose. Andrew stares at the freckles there for a moment. 

“You,” Andrew points a finger at Neil. “You, don't encourage him.” 

The coffee makes stops gurgling beside Neil. Andrew grabs three mugs-- when did he get so many mugs? He blames Kevin. He doesn't trust the drunk to get his own coffee, so Andrew hands him a mug. He still holds Cat Two with his other hand. Andrew mixes his own with plenty of sugar and lets Neil help himself. 

“Just for that, you two have to pick up Chinese for lunch. Kevin owes me after this shit.” 

Neil quirks a brow. “Are what, you're expecting me to escort him?” 

Andrews glare intensifies.“You thought he was funny. You obviously need more time to see how annoying he is. This is punishment.” 

And because Andrew doesn't trust Kevin to walk three blocks and back without panicking over someone who looks even remotely like Riko. Or the idiot would stumble drunk into traffic. 

Andrew pulls some whiskey from his freezer and tops off his half-empty mug and passes it to Neil. He considers it for a moment before he takes and adds a little to his own mug. Kevin takes another drink from his own bottle before Andrew steals it away from him. Neil and Kevin spend an hour playing with the cats and getting drunker before Andrew kicks them out. 

Neil helps Kevin stand. He's buzzed on his own, but Kevin is swaying with Neil's arm around him. It takes them twice as long as normal to descend the stairs. 

“Thanks,” Kevin mumbles. The traffic moves around them on the sidewalk. 

“Andrew would kill me if I let you break your neck.” 

“Noooo, I mean f’r th’ oth’r day. Last week, wi’ that guy.”

“By Eden's Twilight?” Neil asks. 

“Yeah. That. Jus’, thanks.” 

“It's fine, don't worry about it.” 

They make it another block before Kevin speaks again. “I w’s with this guy, Riko. B’for Andrew go’ me out. He's not a good guy. He used t’ beat me up, an’ stuff. So i’s hard t’ say no to men who look like tha’.” 

Neil nods. “Andrew mentioned something about that. He wouldn't tell me much. How'd you meet?” 

Kevin wipes a hand over his face. “I’s in Cali, wi’ Riko. An’ ‘Ndrew was fightin’ these guys an’ ‘mpressed Riko. He wanted to bring ‘im into th’ Ravens, bu’ ‘Drew din’ wanna. Riko wan’ed me t’ s’duce ‘im or somethin’, t’ join.” Kevin sighs heavily, looking troubled. 

Neil knew Andrew was gay, but wasn't aware that Kevin would be interested in men. Neil supposed he was attractive, with dark skin and hair, eyes the prettiest green. His lashes are long and lips are full and soft looking. His nose is mostly straight, save for a small bump where his nose had likely been broken and reset. Neil wonders what it might be like to kiss a boy and want him. 

“‘Nyway, ‘Ndrew saw Riko break m’ hand an’ he beat th’ shit outta Riko. He got me ‘way from ‘em an’ here we are.” 

“So he rescued you from your abusive ex and his gang, and moved you all the way from California?” 

“Mmhmm. My hand’s healed, bu’ it st’ll hurts sometimes.” 

“I'm sorry that happened to you.” Neil feels like he should share something of his own, but it's hard to talk about Baltimore. He settles for something small. “My dad broke my arm when I was seven.” 

Kevin looks appalled. “Shit. That sucks.” 

Neil nods and they walk in silence until they pick up their food. Kevin pays without looking at the price. 

“Are you going to tell Andrew about what you saw behind the club?” 

“You suckin’ some guy off? I don’ care ‘bout that. An ‘Drew won't care.” 

Neil looks at Kevin, searching his face for a lie or some sort of condemnation. 

“I'm a whore,” Neil says to finally provoke some sort of reaction. He's tired of waiting for this particular bomb to drop. 

Kevin just shrugs. He seems to have sobered a little during their walk, he doesn't stumble into traffic. 

“I know. It doesn't matter.” 

“Thanks.” 

Andrew is waiting impatiently when they get back. He's fed the kittens and they're napping in their tower again. Kevin and Neil must be slow, for two runners. He debates going after them when they knock-- probably Neil-- and bring in bags of late lunch/ early dinner. 

“Are we making friends, Kevin?” 

Kevin shoves one of the bags at Andrew. “Here, midget.” 

“Fuck you very much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you enjoy the drunk fluffs? Enjoy it before the angst. :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... here's that angst

** trigger warning for rape and abuse. The first half of this is basically just pointless violence because I can't help myself. 

You can skip down past the ***** line if you're easily triggered :)

 

Neil's been hungry for a few days and he hasn't slept properly in even longer than that. Every time he closes his eyes his mother is there, a limbless ghost that screams and screams until Neil wakes up. Sometimes his father is there, axe still bloody. Sometimes Neil's brain replays Mary’s death in full detail, as Nathan chops her slowly to bits. Piece by bloody piece. Sometimes he gets flashes of memory from Colorado. 

When a tall guy offers Neil forty bucks to suck him off in the alley, Neil is too tired to think clearly, and just appreciates the tip. The man is tall and buff like a bodybuilder. His face would be handsome, maybe, if his eyes weren't so small and his nose hadn't been repeatedly broken. He has a scar on his chin that Neil could guess came from a ring. He notices a tattoo of a raven on the man's hand. 

Neil hands over a condom and the man shakes his head. 

“You're the whore. You do it.” 

‘Oh’, Neil thinks. ‘Another self entitled asshole.’ He sighs. Neil gets to his knees and unbuckles the johns pants. His dick is only half hard, but stiffening at the sight of Neil on his knees. It's not the biggest Neil has seen, but it definitely isn't the smallest. 

A shadow shifts in the corner of Neil's vision but the johns fist in his hair keeps him from turning to look. Neil tries to push away and the john smacks him for it. A meaty fist slams into the side of Neil's head. He sees stars as he's thrown sideways in the alley. He sees another man step out of the shadows. Neil recognizes the man behind Eden's Twilight. The one who had tried to rape Kevin. 

“What-” is as far as Neil gets before a boot stomps down onto his chest as the men kick him into the ground. The air escapes Neil's lungs in wheeze. 

Another kick to the ribs makes Neil choke. He can't breath. Someone drags Neil up by his collar and holds him still while the other bashes Neil's face in with his other fist. They have matching bird tattoos on their hands. Neil feels blood drip down his face from his nose and lip. A ring on the man's hand tears the skin on the left side of Neil's face-- his eyebrow, his cheek, his chin, as the man hits him again and again and again. 

He knees Neil in the stomach before he lets him drop. The men stomp down on Neil's back and his forehead smacks into the ground. He feels another cut open above his other brow. Blood drips into his eyes and Neil can't seem to make his vision clear. The man kicks him, again and again, long after Neil curls into a ball to protect himself. 

Neil wonders if this is one of his father's men that has found him, or some asshole who gets off causing pain-- some kind of sadist. The man doesn't say anything, just alternates between kicking him and punching his face. He beats Neil until he's limp. 

For a second, Neil thinks the men are going to let him go. Then he feels a set of hands turn him onto his belly. They wrap around his wrists and fist in his hair, forcing his face into the ground. The gravel burns in his cuts and scrapes against the bruises from his temple down his cheek to his chin.

The man he recognizes from the club begins tearing at Neil's pants. The old fabric gives and tears and they're tossed aside. Neil is too broke for boxers-- whores don't need them-- and he is left bare. 

“No,” Neil tries to yell but it comes out a hoarse groan. He struggles too much and earns a punch to his kidneys. The man grabs a handful of flesh and smacks his ass. Neil is clawing at the man holding him down. 

“Wanna play the rape game?” 

“Don't, please,” Neil begs uselessly. Blood bubbles from his nose. 

The men laugh. “That's the spirit.” 

“Stop. Stop, please. No!” Neil cries but he can't seem to get enough air into his lungs. 

He tries to scream and it only comes out as a wheeze. Panic floods his veins and a weight settles on top of him. He holds Neil down with his knees in the back of the teens thighs and an arm bracing his weight against Neil's shoulders. 

“No. No no nonono.” 

“Stay still, pretty boy.”

A blunt head presses against his hole. The pain is worse than Neil would have imagined. It hurts like something far larger and far harder than flesh had been shoved up his ass. Neil hopes the men are wearing condoms. 

He tries to scream for help, for Matt, for the man to stop, please stop, please. But once the man starts thrusting Neil can't breath. 

His weight pushes Neil into the filthy ground, and it rubs his sensitive skin raw with every thrust. Tears of pain and shame burn his eyes and mix with the blood on his face. The only thing Neil can do is claw at the ground. Little pained noises escape him as the man gets rougher, thrusts harder and faster. 

It's over even more suddenly than it had began. Amidst the frantic slapping of flesh, the stranger cums with a groan and Neil whimpers through the pain. The man smacks Neil's ass and pulls away. 

Neil tries to stand, to move away, to fight or *something*. Another boot stomps on his shoulder and forces him back to the ground. The second man settles behind him, same as the first, and they trade places so he's still held down. The other man forces himself inside Neil with one harsh move. Neil feels like he's being torn in half, like every thrust is going to kill him. 

This is hell. He can only swallow the blood in his mouth and choke on his screams. Neil claws at the dirt, desperate to ground himself from the other pains, but it's useless. Neil is drowning in the horror of the man inside him. 

The second man-- the john that had lured him here-- takes longer to come than the first man. His large hands wrap around Neil's throat, and the boy chokes. Blood dribbles from his mouth, and clogs his nose, and he can't breath. His vision slowly turns faint and blurry. He wishes he would just pass out already so he wouldn't have to feel this pain that burns him inside, worse than the bruises and such on his skin. He goes weak from the pain of it, limp beneath the man. Every thrust drags gravel into the scrapes on Neil's bare legs and where his shirt rides up his stomach. The side of his face stings. 

When the second man finally cums, Neil can only cry silently. Neil doesn't dare move as the man fixes his jeans and tosses a few twenties on the ground. He gives Neil another kick to his hip as he passes by, and then they leave. 

******

“Told you not to fuck with the Ravens.” 

This was just petty revenge. They hurt Neil just because they could. Because they wanted to and nobody cares if a whore gets beaten or raped or murdered. Because Neil had dared to stand between Kevin and the man. Neil hates them. He wants them dead. 

Neil thinks he lies there for a long time but he isn't sure. He hurts so bad. He hurts everywhere, inside and out. Breathing hurts. Thinking hurts. It's a long time before he can force himself to his knees. His jeans are in shreds several feet away, but they're better than nothing. The entire inseam is torn from ass to crotch, just like Neil. 

He pulls his pants up with a lot of effort and pained cries. His shaking hands can't manage the button or zipper so he holds them up with one hand. He hopes too much flesh or blood doesn't show through, but his embarrassment is drowned beneath the pain. At least he spies two soiled condoms on the ground next to where he had been pinned. Small consolation. 

Neil has to use the wall for support, but he manages to get to his feet. He stumbles and falls several times as pain shoots up his spine from between his legs. His stomach cramps and throbs in pulse with his heartbeat. He thinks he must be bleeding but he doesn't dare to look. 

It's only a few blocks to his apartment but every step is a battle. He wants to stop and just collapse-- his body begs for rest-- but Neil knows nobody will help him if he falls. People pass by and don't stop, or they go around to avoid him completely. Nobody offers help because nobody cares. Neil is nobody. Neil will always be nobody, will die a nobody. 

He wonders briefly if those men shouldn't have just killed him, but he shakes the thought away. He mother didn't die for Neil to be fucked to death in some alley. 

He forces his feet to move, however slowly, until he's at his apartment. His vision spins and he hits the wrong floor number in the elevator. It takes three tries to get it right. Neil feels like a speck of nothing-- used and left like trash. Everything hurts and he just wants it to stop. The pain, the exhaustion and anxiety. The feeling of always being hunted. He wants it all to stop. 

On the top floor, his key won't fit into the lock-- his hands are shaking too violently. It slips out of his hand and he can't bend over to pick it up. Slowly, he leans his abused back against the door and lets his legs give out in a poorly controlled fall. He lets his eye-- the one not swollen shut-- close and he wills he door to open itself. 

After several more long minutes Neil forces himself to move. He can't let anyone find him here, lying in a bloody heap. He has to use both hands to fit the key in. Neil drags himself inside and forces the lock behind himself. Unfortunately, that's all the further he can make himself move and he lies on the floor in a neglected heap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry (not sorry)  
> Did I forget any warnings? Anything I forgot or should know? Tell me how much you hate me!! Thanks for reading!! <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok first: does anyone know how to italicizes on mobile??? Very important.

It's been three days since Neil has come around his usual corner, and Matt hasn't seen him since. It's a Saturday, and Neil is always out on weekends, doing what he can to do some tricks and earn a little cash. Friday's and Saturdays are especially busy for people like Matt and Neil, and it's worrying when the kid doesn't show for so many days in a row. He searches the alleys and dumpsters around, praying that he doesn't find a body. Thankfully he doesn't. As a last resort, Matt heads to Eden's Twilight to find Andrew. 

The club is packed on a weekend, filled with drunk and happy people. Matt even sells a good bit of product there, before he can make his way to the bar. He keeps an eye out for a familiar face but doesn't see Neil. He gives up and waits to catch Andrew's attention. 

“Andrew, hey!” Matt waves the blonde over. 

“You can't sell your dope here. Unless you're drinking, get out.” Andrew scowls. 

Matt chooses to ignore Andrews instigations. “Have you seen Neil lately? You're neighbors, right? I haven't seen him in a few days, I've been worried.” 

Come to think of it, Andrew hadn't seen Neil in the hallway like he usually does. They usually get off work and back to the apartment around the same time, but not lately. 

“I'm sure he's fine. But I'll check on him after work. Now buy something or get out.” 

Matt nods, looking only slightly agreeable. “Thanks.” 

On his walk to the apartment, Andrew thinks about the last time he had seen Neil. That would have been Sunday morning after work. He knows Neil had been around Monday, because of their grocery dispute. Neil hadn't looked good on Sunday, either. His eyes had been hollow and empty, he had looked tired. A man forcing himself to keep moving when all he wanted was to stop-- Andrew knew the look well enough from his own face, before the meds forced a smile onto his mouth. 

Andrew knocks on his neighbor's door and hopes he doesn't find a body. Thankfully, he hears a hoarse voice answer faintly. 

“Who is it?” 

“Andrew.” He scowls. The voice doesn't even really sound like Neil. There is a long pause before Neil answers again-- Andrew briefly considers breaking in. 

“What do you want?” 

“Boyd thinks you killed yourself.” 

“I'm fine.” 

He doesn't sound fine. Maybe he's sick. But knowing Neil, he got the shit beat out of him for being a smart mouth. 

“Funny, you don't sound so fine from where I'm standing.” 

“Then don't stand there.” 

“Little pigs, little pigs, let me in,” Andrew sings. 

There's no reply this time, though Andrew waits for one. He tries the knob, only to find it locked. “Neil, open the door.”

Still no reply. Andrew has two options now: he can break in and check on the idiot, or he can leave the kid alone and hope he doesn't die. Obviously Andrew chooses the former. He grabs his picks from the dresser and kneels before Neil's door. In a moment he has the lock turned and opens the door. 

Neil is curled in bed, wrapped in a hoodie and at least one blanket. He's pressed with his back to the corner, glaring at Andrew. 

“Go away.” His voice is hoarse and his eyes rimmed red. Either Neil has a fever, or he's been crying. 

“Make me,” Andrew grins only because of the medication-- it's forced onto his face and he hates it. He touches his hand to his mouth like he can wipe it away. 

Before his eyes, Neil tenses as if ready to throw off the covers and run. His eyes flicker to the window, to the fire escape, and back to Andrew again. Like he's afraid. Andrew despises feeling like an aggressor, like the very men who had held him down before. He steps away from the door, leaving it wide open for the runner, but not any closer to Neil. He lights a cigarette and watches Neil stand with great effort, his eyes distrustful on Andrew.

Andrew can only stand the silence for about a minute before he walks toward the kitchen, careful to leave Neil a bubble of space. 

“Got any food yet? Or are you still on a starving diet?” Andrew wonders rhetorically as he searches through Neil's kitchen again. It's as bare as he suspected it would be. 

Andrew sighs loudly. He can still feel Neil's eyes on him. “Pasta or Chinese?” 

“What?” Neil coughs. 

He's leaning against the wall with his arms wrapped around himself. The hoodie swallows Neil's slight body, almost down to his knees and the hood is pulled up over his messy hair. He has the sleeves pulled down over his knuckles but Andrew suspects he might have some sort of weapon in hand. 

“I'm starving and I'm ordering lunch. Do you want pasta or Chinese? Keep up.”

“I don't need your charity. And I told you I'm not looking for some sugar daddy to buy me things. I'm not interested.” Neil had accepted ‘kindness’ from a stranger once before and it hadn't turned out well for him. 

“I'm not offering charity-- I want to strike a deal. But I'm not doing this bullshit on an empty stomach. Executive decision: we’re having pasta and then discussing a deal that will be mutually beneficial for the both of us.”

Neil looks scared again. He shakes his head violently. “No. Fuck off, I don't do ‘deals’ or whatever you have in mind. I can manage on my own. I'm fine.”

Andrew stops. “Hey, look at me. I don't hurt people who don't deserve it, and I don't get off on fucking people who don't want to be fucked. So calm down and stay here while I fetch lunch. Be good.” 

Neil stares, incredulous. Finally he nods. It doesn't take long Andrew long to grab some cheap pasta from the pizza place down the street. He refrains from popping a pill-- he wants to be in his right mind for this conversation. 

Neil is still in his apartment, to Andrews mild surprise. He had almost suspected that the kid would run. But he's sat down on the mattress, sitting crooked on his legs propped up by a pillow against the wall. It looks cozy. Andrew closes the door and sits on the floor across from Neil, cross legged. 

Now that Neil has dared to let Andrew closer, he can see some of his injuries. The side of Neil's face is scraped red and scabbed, as are the torn cuts above his eyebrow and on his cheek-- likely from a ring. His eyes are blackened and his cheek and lips, too. The hint of throat that shows beneath his hoodie is stained with more bruises. The swelling has already gone away and the bruises are turning green as they heal. Andrew thinks they must be days old. 

He hands Neil a styrofoam box of chicken fettuccine and digs into how own spaghetti. While they eat, he watches Neil's hands tremble to hold the fork. His fingernails are bloody and the tips of his fingers scabbed. Neil eats slowly, testing to see if his stomach will rebell. 

“Piss any boxers off lately?”

Neil scowls but doesn't answer. He waits until they're both done eating-- Neil only gets through about half of his before he sets it aside. 

“You said something about a deal. I'm listening.” Neil says. He sounds exhausted. Andrew wonders if the shadows under Neil's eyes are bruises or insomnia. 

“You protected Kevin, back at Eden's when I wasn't fast enough. It made me think that I might need some assistance babysitting the alcoholic.” 

“You want me to stalk Kevin?” 

Andrew glares. “I want you to stick around and keep Kevin from having a panic attack every time someone with dark hair and brown eyes comes near. The Ravens have been tagging all over the area, and I can't watch Kevin all the time. Just make sure he doesn't wander off with some bird brained fuckers.” 

“And what do I get out of it?” 

“Someone to watch your back. I can walk you to and from work, since you seem to have ‘kick me’ written on your face. You're a trouble magnet.” 

As desperately as Neil wants to believe Andrew, he can't. It's too good to be true. The last time someone had offered him a trade, Neil had gotten fucked. Literally, but not willingly. At least when Neil was sucking dick in an alley, it was his own choice. 

Neil shakes his head. “Thanks but no thanks. The last time I took a deal, I got screwed. And I'd rather not ruin this between us.” 

“There is no ‘this’.” 

“Sure.” Neil rolls his eyes. “I'll help you watch Kevin, but I don't need anything from you. I'm fine on my own.” 

“Because starving and getting beaten up is fine. Boyd told me he hasn't seen you since Wednesday. Why exactly is that?” 

“I got jumped by a couple of guys. I've had worse, I'm fine. I'll be back to work in a day or two.” As soon as he could walk without limping. At least he had stopped bleeding yesterday. 

“I don't like owing people. Let me help you.” 

*Just come inside for a moment,* an older voice echoed in Neil's mind. *Let me help you.* 

Neil can't suppress the shudder that quakes his body. He closes his eyes against the onslaught of painful memory. 

“Leave. I'm fine just-- ple-. Just leave. I won't take your deal.” 

“I won't offer a third time,” Andrew warns. 

“Good.” 

“Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are honestly so great :)


	15. Chapter 15

Andrew only has to wait until the next day for a chance to break into Neil's apartment. The kid leaves early in the morning and Andrew takes the opportunity to pick the locks. Neil had been acting far too edgy, and Andrews suspicion reared its ugly head. No sheets on the bed, no drugs or mysteriously large amounts of cash hidden anywhere. He checks the bathroom cabinet for pills and comes up clear, save for some bloody bandages. The kitchen trash can obviously hasn't been taken out in days, and is topped with a few ramen noodle wrappers. Stuffed at the bottom is a pair of jeans, nearly shredded, stiff and stained dark with blood. The bottom drops out of Andrews stomach. 

____________________

Neil wakes violently, with the memory of hands on his naked flesh. It was all too vivid, the feeling of bodies pressed against his own as he struggled beneath their weight. He wakes up gasping with a scream caught in his throat. He claps a hand over his mouth because it's better than imagined weight on his tongue or the taste of dick in his mouth. His scream comes out as a desperate whine, muffled by his hand. 

Neil closes his eyes, battling the images that threaten to shred his sanity. The alley, the men and their tattoos. A slightly older memory, a vague flash of mattress and handcuffs. Logic wars against trauma, as Neil tells himself over and over that he's alone here, safely locked in his own apartment. The larger part of him trembles, waiting for strikes that will not come and feeling hands that don't truly exist in this room.

Phantom pain spikes through Neil's core. He can't breathe, hands are choking him. Neil feel gravel scraping under his cheek. He fights in vain against the men holding him down. His cheeks feel hot and wet from his tears and the blood. He just want them to stop, please! His breath burns in his lungs like he's choking on smoke-- Lola burning the remains of his mother. Every cell in his body is telling him to run, get out, get away. But he can't move for the hands holding him down. 

It takes Neil a few hours to exhaust himself and calm down. His arms are bloody from scratching at the dirt he feels under his skin. His chest burns from holding his breath too long, and his head is throbbing. His cheeks and shirt are wet from crying. He had bitten his hand sometime in the panic. These things help Neil remember that he is here, now-- not stuck in that alley, or the house in Colorado. 

He needs to get out today. He's out of groceries and can't rely on Andrew to bring takeout. Neil's minuscule cash amount is dwindling down to just a few dollars, eaten away from his few days of rest. He’ll have to go back out tonight, or tomorrow at the latest. He doesn't want to, but he knows he has to. Maybe he should just let some of the johns fuck him-- apparently they're going to take what they want anyway, and Neil would make more cash that way. 

Maybe he’ll pack his bag and leave as soon as he a little cash saves up. He's ready to be free of this hellhole-- sure, Wymack keeps the rent cheap and the complex fairly secure. And Neil might miss his tentative friendship with Andrew and Kevin, but Neil hasn't had friends before so he supposes they'll be easy to forget. 

But for now, Neil stops wallowing in self pity and makes himself shower and dress. The jeans are tight, and press against every scrape and bruise on his lower body. His ass hurts. His hands shake so much that he drops his contact down the sink drain. He sighs and flushes the other. At least his hoodie is soft and large enough to hang down to his knees. It's hot, but worth dealing with for the heat for the small bit of security and comfort it provides. 

Neil locks the door behind him and forces his gait to even-- limping draws too much attention. He pulls the hood down low over his head and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He makes his way to the Food Basket-- a local church-owned charity that provided clothes and some canned goods to people like Neil. Maybe he can get a pair of jeans to replace the ones that he had to throw away. 

The people at the center are kind enough. They let Neil choose a pair of jeans and a shirt that's only a little big. Someone hands him a grocery bag of food-- some canned foods, tortillas and some other things. The woman offers to call someone for him-- she probably thinks that he's a minor. 

“I'm eighteen.” He thanks the woman.

On the way out he sees a wooden bat in a pile of kids toys. He thinks about how easily Andrew breaks into his apartment, and though Andrew hasn't hurt him, it could just as well be someone less friendly next time. Maybe one of his father's men. Neil buys the bat for a dollar and walks the five blocks back home. 

His hips hurt, along with the worst injuries he doesn't want to think about. He limps home and takes the elevator. He hates being trapped but it's better than limping up the stairs when his ass hurts. 

He unlocks his apartment door and relived it behind him. He doesn't look up until he's in the kitchen. Neil drops the bag when he sees Andrew sitting cross legged on the countertop. Next to him is the ruined clothes from the terrible night in the alley. Neil is horrified, staring wide eyed at him. 

Andrew notices the lack of contacts first-- the startling blue is a nice change from the muddy brown contacts that Neil had used. Next he noticed that Neil had stopped breathing. He was staring at the jeans in horror, blue eyes wide. His jaw clenched. He can't look away from the clothes, bloody and torn. 

The sight triggers Neil into another panic. Scenes flash behind his eyes like a movie he knows too well-- he feel the gravel digging into his abrasions, can hear his own pained and muffled whimpers. He can't breathe, hands are choking him and holding his arms and pinning him down. 

“Neil. Look at me, come on.” 

It feels like his chest is being ripped open. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears, over the slap of skin on skin. The voice he hears isn't right, it doesn't belong here. 

‘*Sit still, pretty boy.*’ 

Nonono, he wants the men away from him, he wants them to stop touching him. 

“Neil, you're safe. It's just us here. The door is locked and it's only us. I won't touch you.” 

Slowly that new voice filters through Neil's panic. It doesn't belong in this scene, in a dark alley with other men. Andrew is associate with good things-- laughter and warm takeout and good natured death threats. Neil anchors himself to Andrews voice, letting it ground him and guide him back to reality. It feels like he's going crazy, when he opens his eyes and finds Andrew standing in front of him, too close. Neil flinches away. 

“Don't touch me.” 

“I won't.” When Andrew says it, Neil wants to believe it. Neil has learned in the past few months that Andrew doesn't lie. But Neil still can't trust having anyone to his back right now, and leans against the counter to support himself. His knees are still quaking, threatening to buckle beneath him. 

Andrew waits until Neil's breathing calms before he speaks again. 

“You don't trust me,” Andrew says plainly. 

Neil just shrugs. Andrew knows not to take it personally. Andrew draws one of the knives from his armbands and ignores Neil's violent flinch. 

“Here. If I cross a line, use it.” He waits for Neil to take it before he continues. “I'm proposing a new deal: I'll show you how to fight and you take the damn phone; in exchange, you tell me the truth-- everything, always; no exceptions.”

Neil wants to take the deal, to allow himself to be helped and protected; but the last offer he had taken had fractured Neil almost beyond repair. Neil was tired of getting take advantage of, and being abused. Maybe… maybe if he stayed, he could have a real life-- even just for a little while. He finds himself longing for it. 

But the truth was a heavy price to pay. Andrew would probably turn him away, once he knew the truth about Neil. What kind of monster sired him; and his unstable mother, who had been convinced Nathan was a demon. Disillusions and mental illness were hereditary, after all. Maybe Andrew would think he was pathetic for selling himself. Or dirty. He certainly feels that way. 

“Do we have a deal?”

Neil nods slowly. He could always leave if Andrew turns out to be like *him*. “Yes.” 

“Good. You can start telling the truth now; tell me what happened the other night. The truth, remember-- or our whole deal is off. I don't take my promises lightly.” 

Neil blushes, humiliated at even the thought of sharing his degradation with someone else. He steels himself-- now was the time to sink or swim. Either Andrew keeps him, or he turns Neil away. And if Andrew doesn't want him around, neil could hardly blame him. If that happened, Neil would stick to his original plan; he could earn or steal a few hundred dollars and make his way to a different city. Maybe somewhere in the west, he heard summers were nice there. 

It takes Neil a long time to force the words out of his mouth. He watches Andrew light a cigarette and silently offer the pack to Neil. He nods once, but doesn't reach for the pack-- his hands are shaking too much to light it. He tries to take comfort in the smell of the smoke, 

“I'm a whore.” Andrew stares at him, face blank and painfully void of emotions. Neil takes this as a sign to continue. “The other night I followed some guy and I ran into the man from behind Eden's. The one who was messing with Kevin?” 

“The word you're looking for is ‘assault,’” Andrew interrupts. 

Neil's voice is quieter when he continues, strained like it physically hurts to force the words out. It does, his chest hurts and his head is pounding. 

“The guy who assaulted Kevin behind the club was there. It was a trap, I know that now. They beat me up and took turns fucking me.” 

“They raped you.” Andrew doesn't word it as a question. 

“You can't rape a whore,” Neil says through numb lips. *You can't rape a whore,* Neil remembers another voice saying, *you asked for this.* 

“Fuck that. Who told you that?” Andrews voice sounds empty in a way that Neil hates. This is a hint of the real Andrew, and he understands how some people could find him disturbing. “You're asexual by your own omission. You didn't want any of it, some bastards were just taking advantage of your shitty situation.” 

“It doesn't matter.” Neil shakes his head. He doesn't believe a word of that. “I'm fine. I can start working tomorrow, if you want.” 

“When did it happen?” 

Neil shrugs. “Thursday night.”

Two nights ago. Neil would still be hurting, though he had been doing a decent job of hiding it. Andrew was used to this sort of pain, and he knew the signs well enough. Though, Neil had mentioned two men-- he probably hurt more than Andrew used to. Twice the men, double the damage. 

“Let me see?” This is asked more carefully, a request. He knows how Neil seems to have a talent for pissing people off and he wonders at the injuries Neil has. Andrew doesn't do those often, but he understands the boundaries he's pushing now. 

Neil's eyes go wide with alarm, but he doesn't say no. He remembers that he's supposed to be trusting Andrew. And he has the knife. 

“Don't touch me,” Neil pleads softly. 

“I won't,” Andrew swears. 

“I'm not… I'm not normal,” Neil tries to warn him. Andrews eyes sharpen, like can can see beneath the material. 

Neil makes himself strip his hoodie and shirt away. To give Andrew credit, he doesn't flinch or turn away. His face is still that carefully emotionless mask, even faced with the disfigured scars on Neil's body. His torso is a canvas of scars, beneath the newer injuries. The bruises and scrapes mottle them, until Andrew can't tell what made them, but that must be a question for another day.

Now, Andrew considers the newest injuries. There are bruises on Neil's throat and wrists that look like hands. Neil's fingers are scraped and his fingernails are broken ragged and scabbed from clawing at the ground. His back and stomach are black with them, and more bruising extends down under his pants. His ribs are swollen and particularly dark on one side-- Andrew thinks they might be fractured. There's a long peppered abrasion from Neil's stomach that spreads down over his hips, and lower. Those jeans can't be comfortable. 

“You won't be doing that anymore, you're not something that can be bought and sold against your will. You're worth more than that. I'll get you a job at Eden's. You can help me babysit Kevin while he pickles his liver.” 

“I don't have any paperwork. No social security card or birth certificate or references or anything. Nobody will hire me.” Neil admits, still eyeing Andrew. 

“I'll take care of it,” Andrew dismisses. 

Neil stares at Andrew in disbelief. He could have a real job, and a phone, and Andrew would teach him how to defend himself. Neil wouldn't have to run, was tired of running and whoring himself for the bare minimum. 

“Don't move,” Andrew adds. 

He returns to his own apartment to grab his first aid kit from beneath the sink. He also grabs a pair of sweatpants and the phone he had bought for Neil. 

Neil waits impatiently for Andrew. He wonders if this is a trick-- if Andrew had something sinister in mind. But he returns only with black sweatpants and a first aid kit. He hands Neil the box of phone and accessories. 

“Don't look so scared, I told you I won't hurt you.” Andrew hops onto the counter and opens the kit beside him. “Come over here.” 

This is familiar, Neil knows this part is safe. Andrew had done the same thing at Kevin's apartment. Neil steps forward between Andrews legs again. 

“You must like fixing broken things. Kevin told me about Riko. And now this.” 

Andrew ignores him and prods at the rib that's been throbbing in days. “How does that feel?” 

Neil winces and shrugs. “It's mostly numb, but it kinda aches. I think it's just a fracture.” 

Andrew concurs. There isn't much they can do for that. He presses bandages to the cuts on Neil's face and rubs some cream on the scrapes. He disinfects and bandages the bite mark on Neil's hand. There's nothing to be done for the bruises. 

“Here,” Andrew shoves the pants at Neil. “Anything else I should know about?” 

Neil shakes his head silently, and slips into the bathroom to change. He may be trusting Andrew, but not with that. Not while Neil is aching and vulnerable. He's tired from his earlier panic attacks. He wonders if he should eat something or just go to sleep when Andrew leaves. The sweatpants feel infinitely better than his jeans had. 

“Still bleeding?” Andrew asks when Neil unlocks the bathroom door. 

He shakes his head. The bleeding had mostly stopped, save for some spotting when he moved too much. He thinks most of the pain is from bruising. “I'm fine.” 

Andrew scowls. “If this is fine, I wonder what your ‘not fine’ is. I have to take my meds, I'll be back later. Don't do anything stupid.” 

He lets Neil keep the knives. Andrew has to take his meds with food, and he settles on ordering soup from the cafe a few blocks over. He stops at the liquor store on the way and comes out with a large bottle of whiskey. Normally he would get one from work, but he doesn't want to go that far out of his way. 

Neil is back in his hoodie when Andrew gets back. He's curled up by the window, watching the street below. Andrew locks the door and comes to sit behind him, a careful distance between them. They drink the soup in silence and Andrew opens the whiskey. Neil wrinkles his nose at it. 

“I don't drink.” 

“Why not? It helps, I promise.” Andrew would know. Other than the scars beneath his wristbands, alcohol was his best coping mechanism. 

“It's not safe. It's too easy to poison someone, to drug them.”

“Hmm. Well not this time. You saw me open the bottle, I drink some myself. And I promised I wouldn't hurt you.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. I swear I will never be like them.” 

Neil eyes Andrew carefully before he drinks from the bottle. They drink until Neil's speech is slurred and he's leaning against Andrews side. Andrew lets him fall asleep there.


	16. Chapter 16

As I write this fic, I accept that I belong in hell. No regrets. 

 

Neil wakes up with a dry mouth and an aching head. He recognizes the signs of a hangover. Something shifts next to him and Neil registers that there's a person next to him, touching him while Neil slept. 

“No! No, please. Don't- don't touch me, please!” Neil begs as he pushes against the other body, blind in his panic. 

Andrew pulls away quickly, careful to keep his hands back. He stops once there's a good ten feet of space between them. Slowly Neil recognizes Andrew and the apartment around them. That both of them are still dressed, and he doesn't hurt beyond what he did yesterday. The soup and whiskey are still on the floor beside where they had fallen asleep, knocked over in Neil's panic. 

“I told you I hate that word.” 

“Andrew.” Neil says this hesitantly-- his mind is warring against his past. But he knows Andrew. He had promised not to hurt Neil, and he had kept that. Neil knows that last night could have ended far worse-- that Neil had let himself get drunk and vulnerable and Andrew could have easily taken advantage of that. He was stupid for letting Andrew have so much control. “Sorry.”

Andrew sees Neil's gaze dart around the corners and nooks in the room, searching. They wander over the door and the fire escape, both locked. 

“You're safe, Neil. It's just us here.”

“Yeah.” Neil nods, “I'm fine.” 

“Yes, you are the pinnacle of mental health and stability.” 

“I'm trying.” Neil shrugs. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair with a grimace. His mouth tastes awful too. “I need a shower.” 

Andrew waves Neil away and returns to his own studio to shower and change. He has three missed calls from Roland last night. Probably because he hadn't shown up for work or bothered to call in. He shoots off a text to Roland about an emergency and leaves it at that. After his shower, Andrew sets to making egg sandwiches to go with his medication. 

Andrew slips back into Neil apartment, seemingly empty. He can hear the shower still running and he leaves the sandwiches on the counter-- it'll be Neil's fault if they get cold. Andrew eats his own with some jelly in his own studio. 

Cat One and Cat Two are curled on Andrews bed and he decides that they probably have the right idea. After all, he had stayed up all night with Neil drooling on his shoulder. He hadn't slept himself, afraid to wake even more violently than the idiot had. Neil wakes up scrambling to get away-- Andrew wakes up with knives in hand. 

Normally Andrew would push him off. The thought of someone touching him made his skin crawl; but Neil was drunk and sleep deprived and hurting, hardly a threat at all. And after his confessions, Andrew felt the kid may have needed the sleep, if not the minuscule amount of safety that Andrew may have provided. 

So Andrew bolts the door closed and curls up on the bed. If nothing else, the sound of cats purring is soothing, and they kept the bed warm for him. 

Andrew has nightmares as soon as he closes his eyes. He blames his own eidetic memory for recalling every feature of Drake’s face and the vivid detail of Neil's injuries. It plays out in his head like a horror movie. Worse than, because at least the movies are cheesy and unreal. But Neil's screams are far too realistic and the pain is all too familiar. 

‘Stop, stop. Andrew, please! Get him off of me. Please, please, please!’ Neil begs. 

Drakes laugh sounds just as it always did; it's a dark but pleased chuckle. He hated it when Andrew was loud, but he loved when his prey struggled. 

‘He looks good, AJ. Prettier than you.’

Andrew tries to move, but his feet go nowhere-- it's like he's running in place. Neil is limp beneath Drake’s larger body. 

‘Andrew! Help me. Help me, please.’

He is forced to watch Drake smash Neil's cheek into the floor. He knows that scrapes and blood bloom there. He can't move, he can't help Neil. The kid is screaming, ‘pleasepleasepleaseplease’. 

Something grabs Andrews arm and he jumps. The scene changes-- this isn't the Spear’s. The cheap appliances of his studio apartment are a stark contrast to the blue walls of his old bedroom. More importantly, nobody is here except for Andrew and the cats. It seems that Cat One woke him-- she's sitting at the edge of the mattress, staring at Andrew like she knows. The stupid thing is lucky Andrew didn't stab her, or smack her out of reflex. 

His phone tells him he only slept a few hours. He's still exhausted. Tired, he snatches Cat One and Cat Two off of the floor and unbolted his door with difficulty. He steps next door and pounds at Neil's. The cats wiggle in his arms, unhappy at their arrangement. 

Neil opens the door looking a little worse for wear. His blue eyes are still bloodshot-- it makes the blue seem even bluer. He looks pale and tired. His hair is a mess.

Neil had gotten the door expecting Andrew, not two cats shoved to his chest. King and Sir begin looking around his apartment. Neil stares at Andrew, sleep mussed and grumpy and almost endearing. But his shoulders are tense and his muscles (wow, Andrew has a lot of muscle) look ready to snap something. Hopefully not Neil. 

“What's wrong?” Neil dared to ask. 

“Fucking fleabags,” he mutters, and slams the door behind him. Before he goes to bed, Andrew reminds himself to pick up a bolt for Neil's door. 

Neil has never held an animal before the other day, and suddenly finds himself babysitting two kittens. Sir Fat Cat is on his kitchen counter-- Neil wonders how the little thing got up there. King Fluffkins is making herself at home on Neil's pillow. Neil wonders if they shouldn't call her Queen Fluffkins, but then again it his cat, and Andrew calls Kevin a queen anyway. He wouldn't want to get them confused in conversation. 

Andrew tosses and turns for nearly an hour before he gives up on sleep. A text from Renee is a convenient excuse to get out of the apartment and away from the bed that is currently unsettling. He meets her outside so she can pick him up and drive them to the gym. She stops for coffee on the way, and Andrew wonders if he believes in angels. 

“How are the kittens?” Renee asks as she stretches out. She wears basketball shorts and a loose tank top with her sports bra. Her cross and jewelry is piled in the corner, shed away with her softer personality. Andrew wears black sweats and a black vest. He takes his armbands off because they're not practicing with knives today. 

“Annoying. I left them with Neil.” 

“Kevin is quite attached to them.”

“He gave them stupid names. Sir Fat Cat McCatterson and King Fluffkins.” Andrew grouches, finishing up his owns stretching. 

“Those are very cute names.”

“They're stupid names. Cat One and Cat Two are females.”

His crouching startled a laugh from Renee. She stands, and the brawl begins. She comes at Andrew with surprising speed and grace. He ducks her first blow and blocks the quick follow up. He moves to strike her ribs but she knees him in the stomach the second he's in reach. 

She has Andrew pinned in no time. He's getting better, but Renee has been at this for years. Andrews brain settles into ‘strike and dodge and block’. An hour later they're both covered in bruises and sweat. Renee gets him pinned to the ground beneath her, one knee on his thighs and the other pins his hands to his back. She wraps a hand around his wrists and the other fists on his hair. 

Before they leave, Andrew demands that she show him both how to manage the trap, and how to avoid or escape it. Another two hours pass before he feels confident in the moves. 

“I'll see you in group,” Renee smiles as she drops him off. A bruise is blooming on her chin. Andrew is sure that he matches. His own cheek hurts from an elbow. 

Andrew has time to shower before he goes back out to fetch dinner. He picks up burgers and fries from a diner and walked back to the complex. He wonders if he has time for a nap before his shift starts. In his pocket, his phone vibrates. Maybe it's Roland, checking if Andrew is coming to work tonight. Maybe it's Renee, complaining/complimenting the bruises that Andrew gave her. 

It's Neil. ‘This is Neil. Sir and King are meowing? It's kind of loud. What do I do?’ 

Andrew snorts and replies. ‘ETA 5min.’

Neil looks harassed when Andrew knocks on his door and shoves his way inside. He drops the bag of takeout on the counter and returns the cats safely to his apartment. They immediately run for their food bowl and Andrew dutifully empties a can of stinky mush for them. 

Neil hasn't touched the bag of food when Andrew returns, and he rolls his eyes. The idiot is oblivious. Said idiot is scowling at the fur on his pillow with his arms crossed around him. He's still in Andrew's borrowed sweatpants and that over large hoodie. 

“Here.” Andrew shoves Neil's food across the counter towards him, and begins drowning his own food in salt and ketchup and mustard. Neil doesn't touch his styrofoam box. He just stares at Andrew, judging. 

“I don't need you to take care of me.” 

“Yes you do.”

“I've been taking care of myself for quite a while now, you know.”

“And look how that turned out. Besides, we made a deal. So shut up and eat your burger.” 

Neil pouts as he sits at the table with his dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, i take prompts :)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!!

Neil doesn't sleep well, between being used to working nights and the nightmares. Andrews slamming door wakes him up around 6:30 or 7 in the morning whenever his neighbor gets home. He's actually grateful for the unexpected alarm, because his dreams had been tormented. 

Neil showers and dresses and doesn't even limp today. He feels halfway normal, minus the paranoia that makes him check the window locks and every corner of the small studio apartment. Rather than stay alone and bored, Neil makes it his mission to find the local library. Usually it's by a school or college, and Neil has to walk for a few hours before he finds an area that looks even remotely similar. 

It's quiet on a weekday afternoon. The rows and rows of books are a comfort, easy to hide in and the building offers a lot of escape routes. He remembers hours spent in libraries across the country, hiding with a book and waiting for his mother to pick him up. Neil sets up a library card with the phone number that Andrew gave him, his apartment address and a fake name. 

Neil finds himself searching language books. He knows a little German from electives he had chosen at a few schools and he picks up a few of them to browse through and refresh his memory. He finds a neglected coffee nook in the corner and helps himself to a mug and set a drip to brew. His stomach starts growling some time in the afternoon but he ignores it in favor of his German. 

He forgot that he had a phone in his pocket until it rang and he nearly dropped his mug. He only hesitates for a minute before he flips it open. 

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” It's Andrew, of course. 

“Um, the library. Why?”

Andrew sighs like Neil is being intentionally obtuse. “Which library?”

“Hang on.” Neil packs up his books and rinses his mug quickly. He walks to the desk and has to ask the woman there where he is. He sounds silly and she gives him a curious look. 

“I'm at Central Library, on fifth street.” 

“We’ll be right over. Don't go wandering off, little red.” 

A little spike of nerves shoots through Neil and he wonders if his roots are showing through the dye. Before he can ask, Andrews end of the phone clicks and the call ends. Neil tugs nervously at his hair, as if he could see his roots. All he sees is the dark dyed strands. He will have to dye his hair soon, he knows, but the small nest egg he had managed to save up had been eaten away already. 

A while later a taxi pulls up front to the curb and Andrews steps out of the back door. 

“Come along, Neil. Places to be, people to piss off.” 

The cab smells like cheap Chinese food and Kevin has a pile of takeaway in a bag on his lap. Andrew ushers Neil into the middle-- Kevin sits at the other side against the door. Neil doesn't really feel comfortable in the middle, pressed between two men; he tells himself again that Andrew and Kevin are safe, and it's better than sitting in the front seat with a stranger. 

Neil fidgets the whole ride. Andrew finds it kind of annoying, but he sure as hell isn't sitting in the middle, and Kevin is just too big. On another note, of Neil is feeling well enough to walk the few miles to the library, he's feeling well enough to start his training. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe he can get Renee to help. Tonight, however, he starts at Eden's. Andrew already forced the decision onto the manager, who seemed a little afraid to say no.

They file into Neil's apartment. Kevin is just there because he can pay for the cab, and had caked Andrew in another near panic. The boy seriously needs some Xanax. Instead, he brought another bottle of vodka. Kevin shoves a box of something vegetable heavy at Neil and downs his own food with swigs of vodka. Andrew wolfs down his own noodles in a hurry, with messy fingers. Neil learns that Andrew thinks everything tastes better when it's torn apart and eaten with his fingers. 

He vanishes only for a moment, returning from his own apartment with a drill and drags a chair over to the door. 

“Should I even bother asking?” Neil wonders. 

“If you want.” Andrew pulls a driver bit from the hardware store bag. 

“Okay. Andrew, what are you doing to my door?” 

“Putting a bolt in.” 

Neil's brows wrinkle together. “You know those are kind of worthless, right? You can get around them easily enough.” 

Andrew turns to look at him fully. “Oh? Pray tell.” 

Neil sets aside his fork and follows Andrew to his own door. He ushers Andrew and Kevin into the studio and listens to Andrew lock the door knob and then the bolt. Probably just to cause extra hassle for Neil. He rolls his eyes and picks the first lock easily enough. He chews some gum and pulls a rubber band from his hair. He opens the door as far as the chain will allow, and loops the circle bolt with one end of the band. Using his chewed gum, he stretches the band to the far side of the bolt, and closes the door again slowly. 

“Fuck. Goddamn it,” he can hear Kevin swearing on the other side of the door. He shoves it the rest of the way and watches the gold chain dangle with the rubber band and gum still attached. 

Andrew scowls at it, and then Neil, like it was a personal offense. 

“You're awfully clever for just a prostitute.” 

Neil flinches and shrugs. “My mom taught me.” 

Andrew hums but lets it go, for now. He makes a note to take Neil to the hardware store in the morning in search of a better bolt. One that's a little more burglar proof. He wonders where Neil learned his cat burglar skills-- he's too quiet, too clever, too *interesting*. This boy is far more than he appears, and it's dangerous. He wants to draw a knife to Neil's throat and demand answers, but then he will probably go running and Andrew will never see him again, will never get the answers. 

Andrew settles for throwing new clothes at Neil and watching the confused expression on his face. His eyes go wide, and a little worried. Andrew wonders what this particular issue stems from-- who ever had a problem with someone handing them clothes? 

“You start at Eden's Twilight tonight.”

Neil unfolds a pair of black pants with lots of zipped pockets and tears. A chain hangs along the left hip. The shirt is also black, long sleeved, and sheer but not see through. Andrew remembered the extensive scarring on Neil's torso, along with the deep bruising that he knows could not have healed yet. They all look about the right size, but would probably be just as tight as his street clothes. 

“I don't need these, the clothes I have are fine.” 

Andrew shakes his head. “Wear those, they're more in style with the club.”

Chains and buckles and tears? Neil wonders what he got himself into. Again, he thinks that if Andrew pushes things too far, Neil could pack his few things and leave again. He didn't want to sell himself, and he wanted the minuscule safety that Andrew offered-- but if the price came too high, Neil would do what he had to. 

After changing in the bathroom, Neil finds that he was right about the fit-- the jeans hug his legs and ass like a vice, though these have a little more give to the fabric than his jeans did. The shirt fit perfectly, though the collar dipped dangerously close to the scar by his throat. He steps out into the main room and gives Andrew a mild glare. Neil doesn't exactly appreciate being dressed up like some sort of plaything. It's unsettling. 

They leave Kevin at Neil's apartment with the cats and a bottle of booze, and Neil dutifully (suspiciously) follows Andrew to Eden's Twilight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Eden's Twilight


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada!! Not dead!

Neil doesn't know what he expected, but this isn't it. It's darker than he thought it would be. The club hasn't opened yet, but apparently the lights are always kept dimmed. True to his word, Neil doesn't have any paperwork to sign or turn in, and Roland seems nice enough. Andrew shoes him where the storage closets and things are, and Roland shows him how to mix drinks. Mostly, Neil will be kept on the floor clearing tables and in the kitchen doing dishes. 

Andrew doesn't bother introducing Neil to the other workers-- big guys that work the door and throw out unruly customers. Neil doesn't mind, because he's back in the kitchen mostly washing dishes. At eleven people start drifting in-- pretty people; muscled men in leather and chains, and women with knife-point high heels and dyed hair. Neil is glad to be hidden away safely in the back. The thump of heavy bass filters through the swinging doors every time Andrew pokes his head in, supposedly to make sure Neil hasn't run off yet. 

When he runs out of dishes to wash, Neil finally makes himself leave the safety of the kitchen with a plastic dish tub. He makes rounds around the tables, gathering old glasses, and generally just trying to avoid the drunk groups of people. 

At one point a red haired woman grabs his elbow and makes him turn around, nearly dropping the tray of dishes. 

“Hey, baby. Got a minute to dance with a pretty girl?” 

“Not really, no.” 

She seems put out, scowling a little, but let's Neil pull himself free from her clawed grasp. 

“Go to hell. Fucking fag.” She snarls at him as he's leaving. 

Neil shrugs it off. Her opinion doesn't matter to him anyway. He feels eyes on him, and turns to search the crowd out of habit. Instead of seeing his father's men of another hungry eyes partier, he sees Andrew watching him closely from behind the bar. Neil flashes him a quick smile. 

On his third round around the club, he spots a group of familiar faces. Matt, Dan, and Allison, along with a girl with rainbow hair were leaning against the railings on the top floor overlook, illuminated by the dancing lights. Neil is just wondering if it would be appropriate to talk to them or not, when Neil catches Allison's eye. She points down at him and nudges Matt, who waves frantically. Neil can't hear what Matt yells over the pulse of the music, but he meets them at the bottom of the stairs, close to the bar. 

“Neil! Where the fuck have you been? Are you okay?” Dan tries to pull him into a hug, which Neil skillfully avoids. 

“I work here now.” Neil answers with a shrug. 

“No shit, we can see that. What she wonders is why you went missing for a whole week,” Allison scowls at him, and the rainbow girl grabs her hand to hold. 

Rainbow girl offers her hand to Neil. “I'm Renee, Allison's partner. It's nice to finally meet you, and I'm glad to see that everyone's worries were unfounded.” 

“Uh, thanks. But I'm fine.” Neil says, shrugging to the stray on his hip. “Andrew got me a job here.” 

“I see that! Congrats, man. I was worried something bad had happened to you. Not everyone in that neighborhood is as friendly as me, you know?”

Neil shrugs, “yeah, I know.” He doesn't have the heart to say that trouble found him anyway-- it always did. He couldn't tell Matt that he had indeed been pinned down and abused by those two men. It wasn't the first time, but hopefully the last. 

“Anyway, I should get back to the kitchen.” Neil takes his leave while he can. 

Andrew is still behind the bar, arguing with some drunk about cars or something. A set of keys dangle from Andrews fingers and he smiles so viciously at the drunk man. Neil can hear them over the music as he slips in beside the blonde. 

“If you can catch them, you can drive off into a river for all I care. Deal?” 

The man grins stupidly, but nods reluctantly. Andrew promptly throws the keys across the room with much more force than necessary. They vanish among the dancing lights and pulsing crowd. 

The man looks wide eyed at Andrew, looking confused and strangely disappointed. “Oh.” 

Neil can't help the snort of amusement as the man stumbles away, calling a cab. Andrew looks back at him with that too-big smile and a quirked eyebrow. 

“You think this is funny? I should trade you places and make you deal with the drunk morons. But then you would probably do something stupid like piss of an entire fraternity.” 

Neil's rolls his eyes and snags a few used glasses off of the bar, adding them to the bin. The rest of the night passed quickly enough, and the club closes up at 5am. Neil does dishes in the back and restocks behind the bar. At some point Andrew and Roland disappear to the back storage closets while Neil wipes down sticky tables. Andrew returns looking as manic as always, his hair messed but seeming no worse for wear. Roland follows behind, smiling and a little flushed. Neil pays them no mind. 

“Neil! Hey buddy. Here ya go.” Roland passes Neil a handful of bills. 

A flare of panic flickers in Neil's chest. Did Roland know about what Neil had been doing before? Did he expect him to drop to his knees? Was this some sort of set up? Where was Andrew? 

“That, um. I don't- that's okay. I'm fine.” Neil stumbles over the words in his confusion, heat creeping up his face. 

“Easy, kid. At Eden's we tip out the bus boy at the end of the night. You do a lot of work out there and nobody tips anyone but the bartenders, so we split tips with you to even things out, you know? It's pretty standard.” 

“Neil has a nervous disposition,” Andrew smirks. “He's like a chihuahua that way. You can finish up, right, Roland? I've got to take him on a walk or he'll start pissing on the floor.” 

Neil gives Andrew an unamused look but Roland laughs. “Yeah, I got this guys. Go ahead and head out. I'll see you tomorrow.” 

Andrew leads Neil out, oblivious to the glare aimed his way. 

“A chihuahua? Is that a short joke or something? Because you're shorter than me, you know.” Neil eyes the 5’ of blonde. 

“You looked like you were gonna bolt when Roland tipped you out. What were you thinking?”

Neil shakes his head. “It was nothing, I'm fi-”

“The truth,” Andrew reminds him. 

“I thought maybe he wanted something,” Neil admits. 

Andrew's smile is mocking. “You don't have to worry your pretty little head about that. Roland isn't like that, he certainly doesn't have to pay for a blow job.” 

Neil hums in assent. He follows Neil like a stray cat, carefully keeping his distance but close enough that Andrew could keep an eye on him. They go out of their way to stop at a hardware store where Andrew quizzes Neil on locks and they settle for a simpler, sturdier bolt that they would have to drill into the door jamb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lag. I got super into the In The Company of Shadows series and it just ruined me. If anyone wants to discuss, I have a Tumblr and an insatiable need to tear good characters to bits :)


	19. Chapter 19

Here's another chapter!! Mostly just filler and a lil fluff! <3 

 

It takes two more weeks for the worst of Neil's bruises to heal. His fractured rib stops throbbing and his black eyes fade away to nothing. The ridiculous brown contacts are long gone, and Andrew finds that he much prefers the icy blue instead, ringed with long lashes. Once Andrew notices a small shade of red at the roots of Neil's hair, but they're dyed back the next day. 

Neil stops flinching around Andrew, and even Kevin. He doesn't let Roland or the other workers at Eden's Twilight come near him, but they seem to learn quickly enough, after Andrew pulls a knife on one or two of them for coming too close. 

Now that Andrew doesn't have to worry about breaking one or two of the idiots ribs, they can begin sparring. Andrew wakes Neil early before work and drags him down to the basement of the apartment complex, where Wymack keeps his gym equipment. They're both changed into sweatpants and Neil is wearing the baggiest shirt Andrew has ever seen. He looks apprehensive about striking out at Andrew. 

“Get over it.”

“What?” Neil looks wide eyed, staring pointedly at the black bands on Andrew's arms where he knows Andrew keeps his knives. 

“You don't want to hit me,” Andrew glares. “Get over it.” 

Neil nods, still staring at the bands. “Are you keeping the knives?” 

Andrew considers the scars he had seen that first night, weeks ago. They had covered most of Neil's torso, overlapping and twisting over each other. Some had obviously not been made by a knife-- the perfect outline of an iron on Neil's shoulder, and the long strip of rough white skin. But most had been knife wounds. Andrew slips the knives from the sheaths, ignoring Neil's violent flinch, and stabs them into the wall for safe keeping. 

“Come on, Thumper. Time to stop being a rabbit.” 

Neil doesn't hesitate to throw a fist out to Andrews ribs. The little bastard was quick, but his blows were weak. A few weeks of regular meals had added a few needed pounds to Neil's emaciated body. They spar easily for a few long minutes. Neil lands a good elbow strike that knocks the air from Andrews lungs. Andrew retaliates by grabbing a fist full of Neil's shirt collar and throwing him easily over his shoulder. Neil lands with a thump, and a wheeze. 

“You need to work on weights more, bugs bunny.” 

Neil glares. It takes him a moment to get his breath back from the throw. 

“Asshole.” Neil wheezes as he forces himself to stand. 

“Yes, because the assholes that want you on the ground are going to take it easy on you.” Andrew rolls his eyes. He hadn't taken his meds yet, and his temper is shorter than usual. 

Neil makes himself stand, and circles Andrew once again. He listens to the pointers that Andrew tells him, moving quickly and dodging most of the blows, jabbing out to strike at the vulnerable points of the body-- the throat, the eyes, his kidneys and groin. 

Andrew is stronger, but Neil is quicker. They dance around each other for a while, Andrew growing increasingly impatient with every missed or weak blow that Neil deals. He grabs Neil's wrist on one particular jab and swings him around, into the wall. Neil hits shoulder first, and just manages to catch himself. He's panting, worn from the fight. They must have been at this for over an hour now. 

Andrew doesn't believe in mercy, not when he's teaching a lesson. And any attacker would show no hesitance in sending Neil to the ground, so Andrew doesn't either. He punches into Neil's side, not as hard as could, and brings his knee up into Neil's gut. Neil gasps and kicks out, and Andrew wipes his foot out from under him, and shoves. Neil collapses to the ground, wincing lightly. 

“Stand up. I'm going to teach you some holds and how to escape them. Seriously, how have you lived this long?” 

Because Neil's mother had relied mostly on guns, and Nathan's men had taught him knife techniques. They had never focused on teaching Neil how to fight physically. It had always been ‘run and hide’. But Neil was going to let Andrew teach him how to stay, even just for a little while. 

So he lets Andrew pull him into a hold, showing Neil how to manage it, and allowing Neil to repeat the hold on Andrew until he gets it right. Then they do it for real, returning to fighting until Neil can hopefully subdue his ‘attacker’. Andrew is a surprisingly good teacher, allowing Neil to pin him twice. And if Neil's body is left tingling and warm in a new, pleasant way-- well, he doesn't say anything.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I lied. This is definitely not angst :)

Wednesday is always a nice break for both of them. Today, Neil dyes spends the first part of his day dying the roots of his hair back to black with a few pointers texted from Allison. Then he goes to the store to stock up on a few essential groceries. On the way, he grabs some pasta from Mona’s, the Italian place down the street that Andrew prefers. He drops everything on the counters and puts it away before he knocks on his neighbor's door. Andrew answers, looking like he had been in bed. His hair is messy and soft looking, dressed in low hanging sweats and armbands. He glares at Neil, waiting for the idiot to start talking. 

“Did I wake you? I got us food from Mona’s.” Neil nods his chin over his shoulder to his own door, an obvious invitation. 

“Fine. Bring it over, Kevin's bringing whiskey.” 

Neil had also figured that, and had bought Kevin some roasted vegetable and chicken pasta. He has no doubts that Andrew will steal Kevin's garlic bread. Neil and Andrew settled into the beanbags on the floor and their takeaway dinner. The sun is already set when Kevin lets himself in with his own key and two bottles of whiskey. Andrew drinks straight from the bottle without bothering getting up for a glass. Kevin plops wordlessly into the last beanbag and Neil wonders at how Andrew conveniently got exactly three beanbags. 

As it turns out, whiskey goes surprisingly well with cheap pasta. Neil had only really drank in the past when his mother had to stitch him back together after the times Nathan's men caught up with them. It had been a cheap anesthetic and safer than risking a hospital. After her death, he hadn't really felt safe enough to drink alone. 

Then Andrew came along with his promises and deals, and Neil could protect himself. He had a heavy bolt on his door, new self defense moves, and a scary protective neighbor guarding over him. He didn't have to worry about saying too much, because Andrew always demanded nothing but the truth, and Kevin was as broken as either of them were. Neil didn't understand why Andrew would protect two pathetic creatures such as themselves, but he did. 

On the tv, Andrew let Kevin put on some sort of history channel documentary that Neil couldn't follow as he drank more and got steadily more drunk. 

“Aliens aren't real, Andrew. Thought you were s’posed to be th’ log’l- logic’l one.” 

“Then how did the ancient Egyptians move the stones for the pyramids?”

“With log-wheel thin’s! An’ ropes. An’ camels and stuff.” 

Neil can't tell if Andrew is serious or not, but he suspects that Andrew argues just to mess with Kevin. “And the coins they found? That's pretty damning evidence.” 

“Coins? There aren't any coins. No’ with *aliens* on th’m.” 

Andrew pulls out his laptop and brings up a google search. Neil watches over Andrew's shoulder, close enough to feel warmth radiating from those braid shoulder and back, but careful not to touch. 

“Holy shit!” Kevin gasps. 

Neil giggles. Drinking makes him warm and giggly, and even quicker to snap at Kevin's prissy antics about diet and exercise and the importance of-- something. It slipped Neil's mind, at the moment. He giggles again, ignorant to Andrews gaze. It feels kind of great when he runs his hand through his own hair. 

“You're an idiot.” 

Neil hums his agreement. “I'm drunk.”

“Don't pass out on my floor.” Andrew warns.

“‘M not. ‘M in a beanbag chair thing.” 

“Nobody likes a smartass.”

“You do,” Neil grins, and coos as Sir Fat Cat climbs onto his shoulder. 

The cat bats at Neil's hair, which is growing long again. Andrew notices that the roots are no longer hinting at a natural auburn, dyed dark again. Kevin stumbles to the bathroom, nearly tripping over King. 

“Why do you dye your hair?”

That wipes the silly smile right off of Neil's face. He frowns, and cuddles Sir into his chest. His neck and cheeks are still flush from the alcohol. 

“I don't like the color. Reminds me of my father,” Neil admits. He's gotten better at remembering to tell Andrew the truth. 

“What's his name?”

“...Nathan.” Neil whispers after a long silence. 

“What is the natural color?” 

“Red.” 

Andrew considers. “You don't look like a Nathan.”

Neil shakes his head, face buried in Sir’s fur. “‘M not. ‘M Nathaniel.”

“I thought you were Neil.”

“Don't ask me that. Pl- Not tonight. Later.” 

Andrew nods. Neil stands, taking the empty styrofoam box to Andrews trash. He moved to the door without so much as a goodbye, and Andrew doesn't really want to be stuck alone with Kevin tonight. 

“Stay,” he asks as Neil unlocks the bolt. Neil turns to look, and stops. He considers Andrew for a few long moments, but relents. He flops down in his abandoned beanbag, and if Andrew grabs a fistful of plastic material and drags Neil closer neither of them comment on it. 

Kevin is the first to pass out, if only because he drinks like a man with demons to drown. Neil falls asleep with little grace, halfway through a horror movie that they had been poking holes through. His head slowly falls to Andrews shoulder, dyed hair tickling his neck and chin. He glares down at the sleeping form, but doesn't shove him away. He even lets the steady breathing of the two drunk idiots lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so amazing with your comments!! I love them so much!!! I know this is super slow going but seeing as my only plot points are violence, I figured I'd better add a little something else to it. 
> 
> So whatcha think?


	21. Chapter 21

Andrew wakes him up at a ridiculously early hour. Neil groans and battles against the nausea in his stomach. His head pounds the same beat as Andrew's fist on the door. Even his scars feel uncomfortably tight, aching and stinging with the brush of fabric against them. He's never drinking again. 

Once Neil is pretty sure he won't vomit all over Andrew, he answers the door. 

“Go change, we're sparring today.”

Neil moans a little, but doesn't argue. Mostly because he knows what Andrew will say-- that none of Neil's attackers would give pause to hurt him, just because he wasn't feeling well. And unfortunately, Andrew would be right, so Neil doesn't bother arguing. He locks himself in the bathroom to change into sweats and a loose shirt, and stops in the kitchen for a piece of plain bread and a glass of water. 

Andrew doesn't have the mercy to go easy on Neil, even at first. He launches himself at the Neil with strikes aimed to incapacitate. Neil can dodge and deflect many of the blows, but Andrew lands a few against his chest. Neil's scars burn and throb in protest, but Neil grits his teeth and defends himself against the onslaught. 

Neil retaliated with an elbow to Andrews stomach, and a bruising kick to the blonde's ribs. Andrew doesn't pause for long, hardly seeming affected by anything Neil can do to defend himself. 

“What did your father do to you?” Andrew asks out of the blue, and Neil falters. 

“I can't take it if you're going to fight me both physically and mentally. Pick one.” Neil huffs, resistant to answer. 

It feels almost like a trick question-- what *hasn’t* his father done to him? When Neil was four, Nathan hit him until his face was swollen and his ears rang. When he was five, he took an iron to Neil's shoulder for being too loud. A year later, he beat Nathaniel for mentioning his upcoming birthday to a teacher. By the time Nathaniel was eight, he had seen his father butcher men in the basement for seemingly no reason. He had ordered his son to help Lola bag the body parts and had beat him when he hesitated. He had killed Nathaniel's mother and locked them in a trunk together for the entire drive back to Baltimore. He had made Neil watch as Lola burned her body. 

“Later, then. Come on, Neil,” Andrew twists the name, mocking. “Put some effort into it. You hit like a girl.” 

Neil doesn't quite understand what Andrew is trying to say, because his mother and Dan and Lola are some of the most fearsome people Neil has ever seen.   
But still, he puts more strength into his blows. His scars stretch and burn with every move, making Andrews strikes feel even worse. An elbow digs into the over-sensitive scar tissue on his shoulder, and Neil crumbles. Andrew twists him into a hold, his knees on the back of Neil's legs, and a grip holding his wrists down. 

Suddenly there is no concrete floor beneath him, only dirt and brick walls around him. The smell of blood and the stinking breath of the strange man on top of him. The gravel stings his stomach and thighs, the worst of the pain radiating from his ass, growing with each frantic thrust. 

*Stay still, pretty boy.*

Neil would scream, but he's choking in the blood in his mouth, thick and coppery. The entire scene replays in his head like a bad movie. 

Andrew feels Neil still beneath him for a split second before his muscles tense. And Neil still doesn't move, save for the clenching fingers against Andrew's hand. Trembles grow to rack Neil's frame. 

“Stop-” Neil says so low that Andrew almost couldn't hear it. 

Andrew jumps off, carefully putting distance between them. Neil's stopped breathing, and he refused to move. His eyes are closed, face pressed hard into the cement floor. He's begging low, almost under his breath to *stop, please stop*. 

“Neil.” 

Nothing. Not so much as a twitch. If Neil wasn't so visibly trembling, he would look dead. 

“Neil. Look at me, idiot. You're not there. Neil,” Andrew finishes with a snap. 

“No, no, please. Please. Please don't.” 

Andrew can feel his own skin shiver and prickle in alarm. It's too close to his own ghosts, watching Neil lie there and shake. It's almost painful to watch. It makes him sick to watch, and he doesn't dare touch Neil when he's like this. He picks up a water bottle from the corner and upends it over Neil's head. 

Neil comes sputtering to reality, wide eyed and looking entirely too vulnerable. His breath comes in sputters and gasps. He wipes at his face, thinking that the water feels too thick, it's like wiping the memory of cum from his cheeks. He can feel how his hands tremble so violently, and he clenches them. 

Neil surveys the room slowly, as if surprised to see only Andrew, who stands well out of arms reach, and far away from the escape route. Yet, when Andrew moves to light a cigarette Neil cringes away, afraid of being touched. 

Andrew quirks a brow at him. “Are you done-” 

Neil runs. He races his demons up the stairs and locks himself in his apartment with the bolts fastened. 

Andrew watches Neil run and refuses to feel guilty. He knows better than to chase after the fool, and lets him run. Andrew battles his unexpected rush of anger with weights, before returning to his own apartment to shower for group and his session with Bee.


	22. Chapter 22

“I want to let Renee teach you about holds.” Andrew brings this up on their way to work, seemingly out of the blue. Well, sort of-- he's tired of watching Neil jump around him. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Neil wonders, wide eyed. 

The blonde shrugs. “Maybe if a girl does it, you won't panic when you're on the ground.” 

“No. Pl- Don't. I'll be better just don't make me work with anyone else. You promised.”

Andrew curses inside. “You don't trust her?”

Neil visibly shudders. “Not really, no. She reminds me of someone.” 

“Your mother?” From what Andrew has heard, Neil's mother was abusive and neglectful and Neil is still in denial. 

Neil shakes his head. “My father's… associate? Mistress? Her name is Lola.”

“You never told me about your father.” 

“It's not something I like to talk about.”

“Another time, then. We’ll trade truth for a truth.” 

“Why?” Neil wonders. Andrew was entitled to Neil's truths, but not the other way around. That wasn't part of their deal. 

“You don't trust me.” Andrew says it without slight. He understands why Neil has trouble trusting people. Andrew is the same. 

“Okay. Just don't leave me with Renee.”

 

 

The club pulses a beat that Neil doesn't understand as he ventures out for more dishes to wash. He keeps his head low and tries to avoid the largest clusters of men and women. It's been days since the training disaster, and Neil has been trying to keep his distance. Logically, he knows that Andrew probably won't hurt him-- not like *that*, anyway. But his body is illogical and cringes away on instinct. 

Wednesday's practice had done more damage than Neil would like to admit. He doesn't sleep when he should, the lights outside too bright and his thought too dark. He remembers heavy weight on top of him, and in his dreams Andrew is one of the men. Neil imagined that vicious grin as the blonde ignores Neil's pleas and pins him down. He tells himself that it isn't real, that it's just a dream but he still wakes up limping with phantom pains. 

Neil runs miles to try and exhaust himself but it seems he can never run far enough. Tonight he is weary from too much life but he made himself crawl out of bed anyway. He doesn't want to be surrounded by a fray of strangers, but here he is, regardless. It's better than kneeling down in an alley. So he swallows down his anxiety and makes his rounds around the room. 

He's stuck in his head when he hears a voice he vaguely recognizes. The music makes it hard to hear, and yet the man stands even closer than necessary. When Neil stands straight over the corner table, the man's body brushes against him. Neil turns in the right space, breath catching, and presses against the tabletop in effort to put space between them. 

“Hey pretty boy. Long time no see, eh?”

Neil vaguely recognizes the man as some john from some alley months before. The guy had been rough but not violent, and Neil doesn't see a reason to fight him. He looks for a way to break free without touching the man. 

“How about you gimme a good suck job and I leave you a good tip. For ol’ times sake,” the stranger sneers. 

Neil leans away from his putrid breath. “I don't do that anymore.” 

He shrugs. “Once a whore, always a whore, eh?” 

Neil looks around for Andrew or Kevin or Roland, an excuse to leave, anything; it's hard to see much among the dark and flashing lights from the corner booth Neil is boxed in. 

The man strokes his hand up Neil's arm, a parody of lovers caress. Neil leans away with the little space he's given. He's practically sitting on the table. 

“Don't fucking touch me,” Neil snarls. He shrugs the touch away. 

“Shut up, whore. Don't be like that.” 

The man shoves Neil down into the bench and his hands go to his belt. Neil doesn't have enough room to kick. He stomps on the man's foot and makes him back up a step. Enough for Neil to stand and elbow the man in the gut-- he's too short to reach the throat. 

Neil steps aside to walk away, leaving the tray of glasses on the floor. The man recovers quickly and grabs him, slamming his fist into the side of Neil's face. Blood fills Neil's mouth. He stumbles. He hits Neil again and lets the boy fall back into the table. The back of his head hits something hard-- probably the table too-- and white stars blossom his vision. 

The man steps within striking distance and Neil gathers himself to kick his heel into the man's crotch. He goes down with a groan and a curse, and security finally breaks through the crowd. 

Mike, one of the muscled bouncers, hauls the man up and away. Neil stands and stumbles, catching himself on the sticky floor. One of the others offer Neil a hand. 

“Don’ toush me.” Neil slurs. He wonders if it's because his mouth is swelling. The room spins, but that could be because of the moving lights. He tries, and fails, to stand again. Then he sees Andrew kneeling in front of him. 

“Come on, idiot. Let's get out of here.” Andrew offers a hand and Neil takes it. 

He lets the blonde haul him to his feet, and catch Neil when he stumbles. Andrew guides him through the crowd and only stops at the bar only to grab a rag full of ice that he presses into Neil's hand. 

“Out that on your face. Or not, whatever.” 

Neil presses it gingerly to his swelling cheek and mouth. The back of his head itches. He rubs at it with his free hand and winces. In the glare of the streetlight, his fingers come away bloody. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” Andrew mocks him. The smile is still etched onto his face but his eyes are hard. 

“I'm bleeding.” 

“You're concussed.” 

Neil nods slowly. “Maybe.” 

“Definitely.” 

Neil let's Andrew lead him along, catching Neil's arm when he stumbles. Which is frequently. His legs don't seem to work quite right. 

Neil blinks and finds himself in a car, slumped against Andrew. He sits up slowly, groaning. He rubs at his head and cringes at the pain that centers around the back of his head. 

“Ow.” 

“Then don't do that,” Andrew scoffs. 

“Where we goin?” Neil mumbles. His lips have swollen and the rag of ice is on the floor in a lumpy puddle. 

“Kevin's.”

Neil shortly wonders why Kevin's apartment and not his own, but the thought flutters away. Eventually, Andrew helps Neil out of the car-- sort of. He watches Neil struggle with the door handle, his vision twisting and spinning like too many drinks. Andrew leans over him and pushes Neil out into the sidewalk. 

Andrew follows and only helps the idiot up when Neil keeps stumbling like a drunk man. Andrew can see the blood matting Neil's hair down against his neck. The idiot needs a haircut. Inside the apartment, Kevin is similarly clumsy, due to alcohol rather than a concussion. Andrew settles Neil down on the couch and finds Kevin in the kitchen, arguing with an empty bottle. 

“Andrew!” Kevin gasps, not as drunk as he usually is at this time. The bottle must not have been full when he started. He must not have found the other bottles Andrew had hidden for fun. 

“Be useful and fetch a towel.” 

“What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?” 

“Bad dog. Fetch.” 

The taller man looks like he could argue, but gives up and leaves. Andrew fills a bowl with water and Kevin brings a towel. He takes both to Neil, who is leaning a little crooked. 

“What happened to Neil? He's usually prettier than this.” 

Andrew quirks a brow, but knows how Neil hates being called that. “Don't call him pretty.” 

“Sorry. Adorabler? More adorable?” 

Andrew doesn't glare, but doesn't answer either. After he rinses the blood from Neil's hair and makes sure the idiot won't die in the next fifteen to twenty minutes, Andrew drags Kevin to the bedroom for a very consensual blowjob.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something short and fluffy :)

Neil's head feels like it's being split open. Gingerly he prods at the back of his skull and finds it stiff and matted with blood. Vaguely he remembers the john from the club and some of the fight that ensued. He kind of remembers Andrew carrying him upstairs to what looked like Kevin's. The bowl of brown murky water and stained rag were still beside the couch. Kevin wasn't nearby but Andrew was curled in the chair next to Neil. 

Neil stands slowly, ignoring the complaints of his head and face. He finds a bottle of water in the fridge and an ice pack in the freezer. He halfheartedly rinses the back of head in the sink until the water runs clear. 

The sound must have woken Andrew because he glares. “Your early morning practices are unacceptable.” 

Neil shrugs. 

“Lie the fuck back down before you fall over. I'll leave your skinny ass on the floor for Kevin to trip over.” 

“Where is Kevin?”

“Wet dreaming of you, I'm sure.”

“Um. What?”

“He thinks you're ‘the adorablest’.” Andrew air quotes with his fingers while moving as little as possible. His eyes are still closed. 

“Oh. Okay. What do you think?” Neil must be a little concussed because the words just slip out. 

Andrew shrugs. “You're both a pain in the ass. But I'd still blow you.” 

Neil doesn't find that as alarming as he would weeks ago. He knows by now that Kevin and Andrew mean him no harm. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh?” Andrew mocks. 

“I mean I don't usually think about stuff like that but I suppose you two are attractive. What about Roland?”

“What about Roland?”

“Aren't you two a thing? You sneak off together sometimes at work to do whatever.” 

“We have an arrangement but no. We aren't a ‘thing’.”

Neil hums. He considers this until the throbbing in his head forces him to sleep again. On the couch, thankfully, not the floor.

They sleep for hours more until Andrew wakes with a growling stomach and a desperate craving for his meds. Only then do they return to their apartments with Kevin in tow. Andrew calls in for the both of them and delicates Neil and Kevin to fetch dinner and booze. Neil listens to them argue about pizza vs Thai with veggies. Andrew wins, as he always does, and they call in an order for two large pizzas-- one with everything, one with veggies and grilled chicken for Kevin. 

Kevin and Neil walk the few blocks over with the last light of the day. Neil's head is aching awfully and he sort of wishes he had stayed in the apartment, but knows better than to leave Kevin wandering around on his own. He'd probably wander into an alcohol store and drink himself into oblivion. Or accidentally walk into a man with black hair and dark eyes and send himself into a panic. 

“You know, ‘adorablest’ isn't a word,” Neil smirks. He bumps shoulders with Kevin. 

“I was drunk,” Kevin sputters, indignant. Neil wonders what it's like to kiss someone of his own violation. 

“So does that mean it's not true? You don't think I'm ‘the adorablest’? Cause you know, that's not the worst thing I've been called.” 

Kevin stops walking so Neil stops walking. The sun sets behind them. Kevin's got a strange, scrunched look on his attractive face. 

“Are you okay?” Neil wonders if Kevin is having some sort of stroke. 

Kevin's hand come up to Neil's shoulder and hip. Neil can feel the warmth even through his clothes and the feeling leaves him tingling. It's not entirely a surprise when Kevin leans forward and bows down to press his lips against Neil's. The kiss is hesitant, and surprisingly shy for Kevin. Neil has to stretch up onto his toes to keep the kiss going. 

Kevin's lips are soft and his hands grip Neil like the shorter man might slip away. Neil kisses back until their lips are moving together, and his hand slips into Kevin's hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think!!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's this :)

Despite Neil's throbbing head, they return to work the next night. They nurse coffees to keep them awake, having been up earlier than usual, thanks to Kevin. The wall is nice, though Neil wishes he could see the stars. He hasn't seen them for a long time. 

“You said we could trade truths?” Neil asks. 

Andrew nods once, adding more sugar to his coffee mug until Neil wrinkles his nose up in distaste. 

“Any question? And we have to answer?” Neil prods, nervous. 

Andrew shakes his head. “We can ask, we don't have to answer.”

Neil nods. “Okay. Shoot.” 

“Why don't you like Renee?” 

“I told you, she reminds me of Lola. She worked with my father, I think they probably slept together on the side. My mother wasn't in the picture very much when I was a child. Whatever they were, Lola was around a lot. She taught me how to use knives. She was a firm believer in learning through practice-- she had me cutting up pigs and rabbits. A dog, one time…” 

Neil stops speaking for so long that Andrew thinks he may be done. Or about to panic. But he continues, softly. “She's gave me some of these.” 

Neil rubs at the scars on his chest. Andrew wonders which of the many has Lola's name on them. Neil has so many it's a wonder if he knows which ones came from where. Then again, it's hard to forget things like that. 

“Now ask me something.” 

“You were only with the spears until you were thirteen, you said. What about after?” 

Andrew had mentioned Cass in passing once, that it had been the closest thing to a home he had ever had. Neil, in return, said that he had basically been homeless since he was nine. Of course Neil had noticed the mysterious time lapse. 

“I went to juvie when I was thirteen.” It's not one of the things Andrew chooses to hide. “Arson and grand theft auto. I stole a Maserati and burned down a park bridge.” 

“I think the term ‘burning bridges’ is supposed to be metaphorical.” 

“Creative licensing,” Andrew grins as he lights his cigarette. “Why was Kevin avoiding you all night? Did you order extra cheese on his veggie pizza? Spit in his soda?” 

“Kevin kissed me,” Neil admits slowly. 

“Oh? Did you want him to?” Andrews grin grows sharper, more dangerous. A threat to Kevin if Neil says no. 

Neil takes his time considering before he answers. “It was a surprise, but it wasn't bad.” 

“That's funny, I kissed Kevin. Looks like he finally grew a little spine.”

“Oh. Um, sorry. I didn't know-”

“It's not like that.” 

“So what is this?” Neil wonders after a few moments. 

“There is no ‘this’,” Andrew reminds him. 

Roland greets them with a smile and a few of the bouncers try clapping him on the back until Neil flinches away. They all give him that same concerned look but remember to keep their hands to themselves before Andrew sheaths his knives inside of them. 

Kevin stops by for a bottle of tequila and even stops by the kitchen to see Neil. He already opened the bottle-- or drank at home-- and his lips burn of alcohol when he kisses Neil. Kevin has to stoop over to meet Neil, and the shorter man presses up on his toes in effort to reach.

Andrew and Roland disappear during a lull in the crowd. Apparently they couldn't wait until closing to sneak off to a back room, but it doesn't really matter. The other bartender manages the bar well enough for the few minutes they'll be gone. Neil ventures out to collect more glasses. 

Andrew and Roland are still M.I.A. Neil keeps a careful eye on Kevin since Andrew is gone. So he notices when a group of men with Ravens tattooed on their hands come in the club. They make a beeline for Kevin and Neil leaves his tray where he is, pushing through the crowd to get to Kevin. 

The leader looks to be about Kevin's age, with pale skin and dark hair, dark thin eyes. He looks Japanese and has Kevin by the front of the taller boys shirt. Kevin looks drunk as hell and petrified. Anger rises hot and red in Neil's chest. 

“Hey get away from him.” Neil shoves the man away from Kevin. 

“Who are you?” The man glowers. He could take lessons from Andrew. It isn't very intimidating. But then again, Neil had a serial killer for a father. 

“Nobody. Who are you?” 

“Riko,” he smirks. 

Neil takes an unaffected look. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“I would have thought you had heard of me by now.” 

“I heard of you, I just don't give a fuck. I expected someone more intimidating.” 

“Neil,” Kevin gasps behind him. 

Riko is flushed with fury. Neil lets himself smile, all teeth and snarl. It's his father's vicious grin. He knows some of what Riko had done to Kevin, and can guess at the rest. Neil won't let Riko touch Kevin again. 

“You insolent bitch,” Riko snarls. “You don't understand who you're talking to.” 

“An entitled brat with daddy issues? Kevin and I laugh about them all the time. It's pathetic, truly, that you think you could be intimidating. So you have a few meathead cronies? Congratulations and big fucking deal. You must be truly desperate to stalk and obsess over him. Fucking creep. So I'll say this once-- leave Kevin alone and kindly go fuck yourself.” 

“I'd rather fuck Kevin, just like old times. He makes the prettiest sounds when he cries.” 

Neil's temper snaps. He snaps his fist into Riko’s face, wiping that smug smile from his lips. Riko goes down and Neil follows him, swinging again and again. The thugs let Neil get a few good hits in-- not so loyal after all. Arms wrap around Neil's waist and haul him up. He jabs an elbow into the stomach of one man. 

And then Andrew is there, shoving people away from Neil and Kevin. Security escorts Riko and the Ravens outside. 

“You watch your back, Neil. Your guard dog won't always be around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are gonna start picking up soon!! It's gonna be quick. I don't have an ending scene in mind. Just FYI. :)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm so late!! Life has been hectic with the new job and liger hours. Anyway things are going to start picking bf up soon!! This fic is going to start going faster I think. As in events, not updated. Updates will likely slow down but I'll try not to abandon this one :)

Andrew wasted no time dragging his idiots back to his apartment. Kevin was already drunk from the club, but he dives into a bottle the second Andrew pulls one from the cabinet. Andrew only allows this for a moment before he yanks the bottle back. Whiskey sloshes down Kevin's chin. 

“Hey! I need that.”

“Shut up Kevin.” 

Andrew takes a few long pulls before he passes it to Neil with a scowl. Andrew lights a cigarette while Neil drinks. His hands are shaking from the encounter, from having the men grab him. He doesn't regret protecting Kevin, but it had been too close. 

They claim beanbags on the floor and the cats greet them with enthusiasm. The fur balls are getting big. One attacks Kevin's sock, the other curls in Neil's lap to bat at his hoodie string. 

“You're an idiot,” Andrew scowls. He thinks Neil is both stupid, and brave. A lethal combination. 

It takes a minute to realize he's talking to Neil. 

“What did I do now?”

“You got Riko's attention.” 

“Our deal was for me to protect Kevin when you couldn't. That's what I did.” Neil argues, not a little confused. 

“You painted a target on your back.” 

Neil shrugs. That doesn't matter, he's always been a target. He says as much. 

“Riko will send men after you, to retaliate for protecting me,” Kevin says. As if he needs to remind them of the severity of the situation. 

“I know.” Neil says this slowly, drinking again. 

Andrew glares at the pair. “You're very unaffected by this.” 

Neil shrugs. Violence of any variety is no stranger to him. “It wasn't the first time. I told you I was fine. I'm fine.” 

“‘Not the first time?’” Kevin pales. He snatched the bottle with shaking hands. It's obvious he intends in passing out on Andrew's floor. 

Andrew quirks a brow. “Care to take a turn?” 

Not really, but he knows it isn't a question. “Before here was Colorado. It was only a few weeks after my mother had died, I had only just barely escaped my father and Lola. I wasn't well, I hadn't eaten or slept in days. I was too busy running from my father. ”

Neil stops and shudders violently. He takes another long pull from the bottle. He leans minutely toward Andrew, his immovable rock. It wasn't as comforting as Neil would have liked, but Andrew doesn't move away. 

“I made a mistake. I fell asleep in an alley, not as hidden as I had hoped. Sloppy. Mother would have--.” Neil paused to shake his head. “A man and his wife found me and offered me a place to sleep just for the night. They said I could have a shower and some dinner, a safe place to sleep, just for a little while. They felt sorry for me. That's what they said, anyway.” 

“They lied,” Andrew guessed. 

Neil nods. “They drugged something I ate.   
They kept me for a week before I got free.”

“What did they do to you?” Kevin asks, voice drunk and slurred. 

“Shut up Kevin,” Andrew warns. 

Neil shrugs. He pulls at his hair some more, until Andrew wonders how a clump doesn't come loose in his fingers. “It's fine. I don't remember most of it anyway. They kept me doped up for days-- it's a blur, until they missed a dose and I got free. It doesn't matter. I'm fine.” 

Andrew presses the bottle to Neil's chest, letting him have the last of it. Neil, knowing he's safe locked in with Kevin and Andrew, finished the bottle gladly. He fishes something out of his pocket, something he had gotten earlier and had forgotten. 

“I got you something. Before I forget.” 

Neil tosses a little plastic toy into Andrew's lap. He picks it up. It's a small cube, maybe an inch wide, with little knobs and switches and things on on six sides. 

“It's a fidget cube, I saw it at some shop earlier. I thought you might like it.” 

Neil ignores the suspicious look Andrew throws his way. He pets one of the cats, instead. 

“You're an idiot.” 

Neil shrugs. “What else is new?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so patient and anazing!! Let me know what you think :) and feel free to pester me about updates during lulls <3


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't gonna post this chap at all but then I read the end and I was like okay. :)

Neil has a bad night. He dreams of Colorado where hands stroke his skin despite his pleas. Of cuffs on his wrists and rips on his ankles. Neil begging, ‘no, no, please’ as they dip lower, lower, below his hips and between his legs. They tell him pretty he is, how small and soft and sweet Neil is for them. They call him good boy, pretty boy, baby boy. 

Neil is hazy from the drugs. He can just make out the man rasping in his ear, “what did you think you were going to get, begging help from a stranger? You can't rape a whore, you asked for this. You wanted to come with me.” 

He wakes up gasping, shaking from fear and residual pain. He feels like it's still trapped, still in danger even as he recognizes the walls around him and the pattern of Kevin and Andrews sleeping breaths. He tells himself that he is safe here, but it doesn't feel very safe here. It's like he can feel eyes on him, and Neil can't fight the urge to search the apartment. 

The bathroom, then the kitchen are searched first. No single hiding place goes unchecked, and since Neil is very good at hiding, he knows exactly where to look. He can tell when Andrew wakes up as Neil checks the closet, then the latch on the window. He might feel guilty if he didn't feel slightly reassured. 

Andrew quirks a brow at Neil, and takes in the fear in those wide blue eyes, and pale face, his lips pressed thin. Neil pulls at his hair, irrationally anxious. His skin is still crawling, and it won't stop. He feels exposed. He feels like he needs more clothes on.

Andrew must sense this, because he shooes Neil away. 

“Go on, bunny. I'll make sure Kevin doesn't choke on his own vomit. Don't do anything stupid.” Andrew warns him before Neil leaves. 

The blonde watches Neil walk safely to his own apartment and unlock the door with shaking hands. It takes so long that Andrew considers unlocking it for him, but when he moves Neil visibly tensed, as if afraid to be touched. He waits for the click of the lock before he returns. 

A thorough check of his apartment ensues, and he knows he's alone. It doesn't help ease the watched feeling he feels. 

Neil wants to curl up in his hoodie but it's in Andrew's apartment. He feels too bare, too vulnerable. His skin is crawling. He feels wrong-- his skin is too tight, feels too dirty. He won't shower because he doesn't want to be naked right now, even alone. 

Instead,Neil crams himself into the space between the tub and the toilet. His legs draw up to his chest and he burrows his face in his knees. The demons in bis memories run away with him until Andrew finds him hours later. 

Andrew has icecream for breakfast, sitting on the kitchen counter with the carton and a spoon. He showers while he waits for Kevin to wake up, and then goes out for donuts when his stomach keeps growling.   
When he gets back, Kevin is still passed out in the same place Andrew left him. A few hours have passed without word from the apartment next door. 

He wakes Kevin with a glass of water upturned over his head.

“Go home.” Andrew says. 

“Fuck, Andrew. What time is it?” 

“Time to get out.” 

Kevin groans pitifully but obeys, bitching the entire way out the door. Andrew knocks next door for a few minutes before he gives up and picks the lock. He feels the bolts stick. At least the idiot is using them. 

“Neil. Neil, you idiot, open the door.” 

Andrew bangs at the door for nearly ten minutes before he decides to use other means. He climbs out his own window onto the fire escape, to Neil's window. He can't see the other man inside the apartment, but he has to be. Knowing Andrews own self-destructive coping mechanisms, he worries over Neil's health. Images flash unbidden through Andrew's head. Neil on the floor, bleeding out. Or dead. Maybe a bottle of pills on the floor beside a limp body. All of the scenes equally unpleasant. 

Andrew punches through the window, ignoring the burning pain that lanced through his knuckles, up his wrist. The blood wells immediately, dropping onto the cheap flooring and glass shards below. It makes the window latch slippery. The noise Andrew makes is loud, but Neil still doesn't show himself. 

He finds Neil in the bathroom, catatonic and squeezed between the toilet and the tub. His hoodie is at Andrews, and his arms are bare. Andrew can see bloody scratches all up and down Neil's forearms where he scratched the skin away with his nails. 

“Neil, look at me.” 

Neil is as still as any statue . He doesn't look up at Andrew. He doesn't seem to hear. He doesn't know Andrew is there, that they're safe here. 

“Neil Josten. Hey, look at me. You're okay. Breathe, idiot. I'm not cleaning up the mess if you pass out.” 

It takes a while for Neil to open his eyes and glance up at Andrew. The blonde is careful to squat down a few steps away, careful to give Neil his space. 

“Andrew.” 

Neil says his name like a prayer, and Andrew absolutely hates it. 

“Of course. It's just us here, Neil. You are panicking for no reason. Stop it.” 

Neil forces himself to match Andrews breathing. His chest aches. All of his scars feel like they've been stretched too far, and they sting like a bad sunburn. Especially his forearms, which he can see are bloody. There is blood under his nails-- it almost sends him back under to another panic, but Andrew keeps him grounded. The blonde scowls impatiently until Neil stands and follows him to the kitchen. 

Neil feels fragile and worn, like he's been stretched too thin. How can he be so wired and exhausted at the same time? His eyes dart from corner to corner, searching for the source of his anxiety. He and Andrew appear to be alone. The door is locked, but the window is broken. There's glass and blood on the floor. He notices Andrews hand is bleeding considerably. 

“Are you okay?” Neil asks, eyeing the damage. 

Andrew ignores him in favor of unbolting the front door and returning to his own apartment. Neil grabs the small broom and dustpan and sweeps up Andrews mess. The blood smears, half wet. He scrubs that away with a damp, dirty sock. 

Andrew returns balancing his first aid kit, the box of donuts, and Neil's hoodie in his uninjured hand. This time, it's Neil's turn to play nurse. He has Andrew rinse the blood away in the kitchen sink and tapes Andrews knuckles in bandages and gauze. None of the cuts need stitches, which is lucky because for some reason Neil doubts that Andrew would let any stranger tend him like his. 

When the bleeding stops, Andrew throws a blanket over Neil, wrapping him in Andrews own comforter. It smells like Andrew's shampoo and Andrew's deodorant and that smell that is just plain Andrew. It's nice. Neil lets the blonde wrap him like a burrito, all while Andrew scowls in mild annoyance. 

Then Andrew curls in Neil's blanket and plops down in Neil's kitchen, his back to the cabinets. He pulls the donuts into his lap and watches Neil watch him. 

“Why the histrionics today?” 

Neil answers Andrew with another question. “Does it go away? That feeling of hands everywhere. Like you're still being touched, even alone in the room.” 

Andrew doesn't know how Neil knows-- they haven't talked explicitly about either of their pasts. Neil knows that Andrew was bounced around the foster care system for years and that it had been bad. He doesn't know that Andrew spent three years in juvie until he reached eighteen. But maybe like recognized like. 

“Not really, no. But it fades, eventually, just like everything else.” He doesn't pause to ask his questions. “Tell me about the men from the alley. The new one, not the one who wanted to rape Kevin.” 

That wasn't what Neil was expecting. Per usual, Andrew went right for the throat. 

“It was dark-- the one man was taller than the other by maybe two or three inches. It was hard to tell.” Neil closes his eyes and brings his knees back up to his chest. He fights past nausea to remember any helpful detail about the men. “They had tattoos of black birds on their hands, and he had scars on his face. One on his chin, one on his cheek. His nose was crooked. He had a side face, he looked like a boxer. He had bad teeth.” 

Andrew hears Neil's breath stutter and hitch. His hands pull at the dyed black hair. Strands pull out between Neil's fingers. Andrew is surprised it doesn't come out in chunks. Neil keeps talking, but his voice is getting progressively more quiet, detached. 

“Their breath stank. They kept calling me ‘pretty boy’. They asked if I wanted to play the ‘rape game’ and they laughed at me.”

“Neil,” Andrew snaps, aware of the precipice Neil is treading on. “You're not there anymore.” 

Neil nods, and opens his eyes. He surveys the room again but his gaze lands on Andrew. 

“Your turn,” Andrew prods. 

Neil shakes his head. “Will you still stay if I don't want to play?” 

Andrew nods. He stays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo?? Whatcha think!?? Sorry I've been so late posting. Tuesday's are basically my only day off now :)   
> Pace is gonna pick up and you're all going to hell with me <3


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry. I know I basically abandoned this for like 2 months. But I'm back now! Here have some fluff/angst/plot filler :)

When Roland offers to take Andrew to the back, Andrew declines. This isn't the first time Andrew hadn't agreed, but not for the same reason. Andrew almost goes, just to use Roland as an outlet for release. But he doesn't, because it won't be Roland he was thinking about. It would be Kevin, with those pouty lips and Neil's big blue eyes. He can't seem to get the idiots out of his head. 

Neil is in the kitchen and Kevin is there to keep him company. Supposedly they aren't supposed to have non-staff behind the bar or in the kitchen or breakroom, but obviously the rules don't apply to Andrew and his wards. 

“Andrew,” Neil chirps with a little smile. 

“Neil thinks fruits are better than carrots!” Kevin sounds scandalized. 

“I thought carrots were a fruit for the longest time.” Neil's lips quirk up into an almost smile. 

“That doesn't even make sense.” Kevin rolls his eyes, ever the drama queen. 

“You're both idiots,” Andrews face is deceptively blank.

He's been skipping his meds more and more lately, though Neil doesn't understand. He isn't sure if the sickness Andrew gets is worth being sober for a few hours, but it must be. 

“Kevin, yes or no?” Andrew asks, face blank but eyes hungry. 

“Yes,” Kevin breaths out, leaning down to reach Andrew. 

Their kiss is short but fierce. Andrew always kisses like it might be his last, like something might take this away from him. Kevin doesn't mind, leaning in and letting Andrew take control for that short moment before Andrew pulls away. 

“Neil,” Andrew is interrupted. 

“Yes,” Neil insists, before Andrew can even ask. 

Neil matches Andrews furious kiss like pieces slotting together. Their lips crush together and Andrew tastes like cake vodka and cigarettes. It draws a noise from Neil's throat and and makes his knees tremble. After Andrew pulls away, Neil is still staring at him with wonder on his face. 

“That was good,” Neil says, breath heavy. 

Andrew quirks a brow between Kevin and Neil, a dare and a silent question. 

“Ok. This is okay.” Neil says first.

Kevin still looks confused. Neil guides him down for a quick kiss, and understanding settles on his face. He blushes under his dark skin, eyes flickering between Neil and Andrew, who wait patiently. 

“This isn't normal,” Kevin says. It is not a protest, it's a fact. 

“Heteronormativity is not my problem.” Andrew flicks his hand in dismissal. 

Neil shrugs. “If it's good for us then who cares? I think you guys are good for me. Don't you agree?” 

Kevins brows are knotted in what looks like pain but he nods. “Ok. We can try. Whatever this is, is worth a try.” 

 

**********

 

‘This’ turns out to be a minefield. It's just short of dysfunctional, and sometimes it has the destruction of a natural disaster. 

Some days Andrew spends on the roof, not wanting to listen to Kevin and Neil bickering. Other days, Kevin is a pouty mess that won't leave the gym or take his headphones off. Sometimes Neil doesn't like to be touched, and never from behind. All three of them are a maze of traps and trip wires, and nobody has a map. They tread as carefully as possible, ‘yes or no’s asked with regularity-- the no’s are the noted and obeyed, but the yes’s are often questioned. 

Andrew leaves to buy booze whole Kevin and Neil makeout on the couch. He comes back with an armful of paper bag and glass bottles with Neil on his knees. It's familiar enough, and Kevin looks consenting enough. He thrusts his hips with a hand in Neil's hair. Andrew puts the bottles in the freezer before he notices the blank and distant look on Neil's face. 

“Kevin, stop.” Andrew growls, racing forward to out distance between Kevin and Neil. 

Kevin looks confused and indignant until he notices Neil. Neil, still kneeling on the floor with his hands clenched in fists at his sides. His hair is a mess and his lips are swollen red and his eyes are unfocused and blank. 

“Oh shit,” Kevin whispers, regretful. “I didn't know. He never said no! I didn't-”

“Shut up. Get out.” 

Kevin retreats to the bedroom and Andrew sits down in front of Neil. He wraps a hand around the back of his neck, a gentle weight with no pressure or pulling. Eventually life returns to Neil eyes and he blinks. His gaze focuses. 

“Andrew?” 

“Your issues are unamusing. If you want to stop, you tell us. Say no, tell us to stop. And we will.” 

“I didn't mean to. It just happened.” Neil takes a minute to collect his thoughts and calm down. “It is as Kevin and then it wasn't. Sorry.”

“Tell him next time and he will stop. We aren't like them. You're more important than getting off.” 

 

**********

 

“You can't keep being afraid of every man that looks like him.” 

“You don't know what he or me through. You don't know anything. I have every reason to be afraid of him.” Kevin argues, the bottle tipping as he waves an arm. 

“You're not afraid of me. I have black hair.” Neil and Kevin have been arguing all morning. 

“You dye it. You look nothing like Riko. He's a monster you don't know what he'll do to me when he gets me back.” 

“He is not going to get you back. Don't you trust us?” Neil glares accusingly. 

“You don't know, you don't know anything,” Kevin mumbles and drinks straight from the bottle. Andrew is silently timing how long it will take before he falls over or leaves for the gym. 

“Because you won't tell us anything. You repress and you drown yourself in booze. The only time I don't see you wth a bottle in your hand is when you're looking for another one!” Neil is nearly shouting now. 

“Fuck you!”

“You've got a problem, Kevin. You need to put the bottle down and get over yourself.”

Kevin shakes his head. If the bottle was empty he would probably throw it at Neil's head. As it is, he snarls and takes the bottle with him. 

“Fuck your guys. I'm going to the gym.”

 

**********

 

The room is an off grey color from the daylight that filters through black out curtains. Eden's had been a clusterfuck the night before, packed to capacity with hipsters and rockers and several obnoxious bachelorette parties. Neil had stayed in the kitchen as much as possible ehile Andrew had suffered through constant waves of drunk patrons. Kevin switched between the two wit's Andrew mixing him new drinks when he could. 

It had been a relief to come back to Kevin's apartment with a takeout breakfast/dinner of waffles with whipped cream. Kevin and Neil had both wrinkled their nose as Andrew had torn pieces off to ear with his fingers, dupping them in syrup and whipped cream that Kevin kept in the house specifically for Andrew. Neil and Kevin had mixed their own breakfast with fruit and peanut butter. After showers they had collapsed into bed. 

Neil and Kevin are curled among each other. Neil is used to having someone at his back after years of sharing a bed with his mother while they were on the run. It's a comfort to sleep with someone close beside him. Which is convenient because Kevin is the human equivalent of an obnoxious octopus. The cats are curled at their feet, seeming to know better than to crowd Andrew. 

Andrew has been having a hard time learning to share a room, much less a bed, with anyone else. Kevin and Neil press together on the side to leave Andrew as much room as possible against the wall. 

It seems inevitable that Andrew suffer from nightmare, his eidetic memory a curse when coupled with his past demons. Trapped in his head, Andrew is beneath the weight of Drake, who's face flickers between Stephan and Jesse and Samuel. But it's Drake’s weight in top of him, smothering Andrews face into the mattress. 

Neil, in a running dream of his own, kicks out in his sleep. Andrews instincts are born of necessity and he strikes before he is even awake. He fails to recognize his partners in bed, and Neil beside him. Andrews first connects with flesh, and there's blood. Neil shoves him away, reflexes honed from years of waking up with Lola or Nathan looming over him. 

Andrew toppled to the floor and Neil is grabbing Kevin, trying to run because he doesn't realize where he is yet. By the time he gets Kevins eyes to open he remembers that he isn't a kid anymore. His mother is dead and Kevin definitely does not appreciate being woken. 

“Andrew?” Neil's voice shakes only slightly. 

Andrew is still on the floor, a knife in hand. He looks at Neil and they stare at eachther for a long moment before Andrew sheathes the blade. 

“You're bleeding,” Andrew says, voice impassive. 

Neil gingerly touches his stinging lips. His fingertips come away with blood but it isn't that bad. He's had worse. Andrew is out of the room before Neil can tell him he's fine. 

“Whas’apen’?” Kevin mumbles, mostly asleep and very upset about it. 

“It's fine, go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.” Neil rubs his hand through Kevin's hair in apology. 

Neil slips out of Kevin's arms and follows after Andrew. The other man is sitting on the balcony, still in pajamas, with a cigarette in his hand. He left the glass door open but Neil leaves him alone for the time being. Instead, he busies himself with making coffee. The decaf is on the left side and the French Roast on the right. It should be more of a surprise that the right is fuller than the left. 

It takes five minutes for Kevin's coffee maker to brew a full pot. He spends the time in the bathroom, gingerly wiping the blood from his chin and neck, and rinsing the taste from his mouth. 

Neil replays his awakening in his head-- he had been trapped in his own dream about running from Lola and Romero. And then he had felt the bed shift with quick movement, and the sudden shock of pain. He had shoved Andrew to the floor without realizing it was Andrew and not one of his father. 

The coffee maker gurgles air and the last drips of coffee and Neil Foxes two mugs-- one plain and one with a disgusting amount of sugar. He brings one to Andrew as a peace offering. 

“You kicked me.” Andrew says in that same bored tone as always, like he could not care any less. Neil takes it for what it is, an explanation and not an accusation. Neil knows better by now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yell at me in the comments


	28. Chapter 28

“You desperately need new clothes.” Kevin is snarling at Neil's worn sleep shirt with disdain. 

“It's not that bad,” Neil insists, eyeing the hole wearing through the armpit. 

“I can see your nipple.” Not that Kevin should really complain about that one, considering he's been playing with it; rubbing his hand over it, rolling it between his fingers and watching Neil's cheeks flush. 

“You can not complain about the hole in my shirt when you're using it to your advantage.” 

“Do you want me to stop?” Kevin asks with a cocky smirk. 

Neil is half tempted to say yes, just to spite Kevin. But Neil's boner is tenting his boxers, and saying no to Kevin right now would be like cutting off his nose to spite his face. It would be counterproductive. 

Neil thrusts his hips against Kevin's hip. “Hurry up. Andrew is taking me shopping.” 

Kevin's triumphant smirk returns. 

“It's about time.” 

Kevin pulls Neil on top and pulls down their shorts with hurried hands. Kevin looks nearly as excited as Neil, his erection flushed and mostly hard. They keep a small bottle of lube in the kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, and living room. Kevin reaches between the couch cushions for the bottle and squirts a generous amount. 

He palms Neil first, Neil hissing as the cold slick touches him. A few strokes warms it and Kevin applies it to himself. Once they are both slick, Kevin takes both hard members into one large hand and strokes. 

Neil attacks Kevin's lips with a vengeance he isn't as rough as Andrew, nor as practiced, but he makes up with enthusiasm. Kevin swallows Neil's wrecked sounds and strokes faster, bringing them both to completion in record time. Neil tenses above him, babbling into the side of Kevin's neck. 

“Kevin, Kevin. You're- ah! I- I'm gonna cum. Yes, pl- yes, yes, Kevin!” 

Neil cums with a shudder, panting open mouthed kisses to Kevin's throat. Kevin strokes him through it. Neil is trembling and whimpering above him and the. Kevin is cuming too. 

Neil's shirt is thoroughly ruined. Neil thinks that may have been the point of this. Neil gives it up, taking his shirt off with enough force to tear the hole. He glares hard at Kevin, hoping to convey exactly how he feels about the situation. 

“Asshole.” 

Neil pushed the stained shirt to Kevin's bare chest. Kevin uses it to wipe the mess off his stomach and chest. He looks entirely too pleased with himself. 

Andrew lets himself in while Neil is showering and Kevin is blending some sort of disgusting green shake. 

“Are you going shopping with us?” 

Andrew searches for his box of lucky charms, hidden under the sink so kevin wouldn't throw them out. 

“Yeah. I need another pair of running shoes, some protein shake and some other things. You're running by Northlake mall right?” 

Andrew gives a thumbs up, his mouth full of cereal. 

“Ugh, where did you hide that? I thought I threw all your sugary crap out.” 

Andrew dumps the remains of the box into the bowl and flips Kevin the bird. 

 

**********

 

Andrew isn't sure how Neil managed to talk Kevin into it, but he thinks he might want to learn this particular style of manipulation. 

Kevin is scowling, walking up the stairs with Neil on his back. Neil's legs are wrapped around Kevin's hips, his hideous jean shorts riding up to show off toned thighs. Andrew may or may not be jealous that those legs aren't wrapped around *his* hips. 

“Don't trip, Kevin. Don't drop me,” Neil is repeating, carefully watching leaving feet clear each step. 

“You could just fucking walk,” Kevin scowls. 

Neil shrugs. “This is my first piggy back ride.” 

“You're a walking tragedy.” 

Andrews own hands are busy with the fidget toy Neil had bought him weeks ago. Neil noticed him using it more and more, especially when they go out in public. Neil is glad that he likes it. He enjoys watching Andrews fingers play with the buttons and switches on the cube. 

Their first stop is the health center, for Kevin's protein mix. Then the shoe store for Kevin's tennis shoes. Andrew sees Neil eyeing a pair of black boots with a heavy sole. Andrew adds them to Kevin's pile when they checkout and for once Kevin doesn't argue. 

“You don't have to, I can-” Neil starts to protest, reaching for the boots before Andrew smacks his hand away. 

“Let me, Neil.” Kevin hands his credit card to the cashier, who is eyeing them funny. 

“Thank you. You didn't have to do that.” 

It's Kevin's turn to shrug. “I wanted to.”

The clothes shopping is decidedly more difficult. Neil stares wide eyed at the selections of dark jeans and styled shirts. He looks more lost than he has any right to. This kid makes Andrews head hurt. 

In the end, its Andrew who picks out an armful of jeans and ushers Neil to a dressing room to change. He demands Neil try on everything, and vetoes several jeans that look tacky or ridiculously baggy on Neil's thin frame. Some skinny jeans hug Neil's ass and legs in all the right ways and Andrew makes sure to add those to the ‘yes’ pile. 

The shirts are all long sleeved, per Neil's request. Most of them are a variant of grey or black, though there is one dark purple thrown into the mix. They're incredibly soft, to Neil's wonder. The purple one feels like something expensive and is the softest thing Neil has ever worn. It also comes with sleeves that reach down to his knuckles and holes to loop over his thumbs. Despite the color, it is Neil's favorite. 

They find Kevin staring across the hall to Victoria's Secret and Andrew quirks a brow. Kevin shakes his head, blushing, and leads their way out of the shop. Socks and underwear are easier to find and Neil has no preference as to boxers or briefs. It's Kevin who throws in boxer-briefs in varying colors. Andrew even adds a pair of polka dot ones. 

Neil has yet to complain about the selection of close, though he does argue that he can buy his own clothes. He is ignored by both Kevin and Andrew. 

Andrew rewards Neil later that night with 'yes or no’s and frantic kisses and Andrew down on his knees.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically me practicing smut

Andrew is scowls down at Neil and Kevin on the bed. Neil is sprawled over Kevin, his lips latched to the sweet spot on Kevin's neck. They're both still in their boxers, and Neil still has the shirt he slept in. An ugly orange thing, faded and baggy on his lithe body. His boxers look no better. 

“Get dressed, we are going out.” 

“We're busy, Andrew. Join in or come back later,” Kevin cuts off with a groan, Neil nibbling at his collar bone. 

“You can watch, if you want.” Neil tells Andrew. 

He looks over to Andrew, a smile playing on his lips. He had clients before, both male and female, that had watched their friend or partner get sucked off by a pretty twink. Neil thinks he would like if Andrew watched. 

Neil kissed his way down Kevin's stomach, stopping to suck a bruise over his hipbone. He licks a wet strip over the muscled V there. Kevin groans and fists a hand into Neil's hair. He pushes Neil down suggestively then returns to gripping the headboard, his own hair, anything. 

Neil doesn't look to see if Andrew had decided to stay or if he left. He looks at Kevin instead, licking his lips. Kevin's black hair is a mess of tangles and his green eyes are blown wide. 

“Don't stop.” Kevin's voice is heavy and demanding. 

Neil strokes Kevin through his boxers, the erection there hard and hot through the fabric. Neil lowers his mouth to trace the outline there. Kevin smells like musk and the cologne he uses. Neil think he feels Andrews heavy gaze on them, Kevin's hips bucking up minutely. 

“You're being a tease.” Kevin complains. 

Andrew must have stayed, because Neil feels a hand wrap around the back of his neck. Kevin’s hand is clenching in the sheets and the other rubbing his chest. The callous fingers run up through Neil's hair and pulls. Neil's eyes meet Andrews, their pupils blown wide and dark. 

“Yes or no, Neil?” Andrew wants to know gay Neil isn't doing this out of habit, or coercion, or anything except free will. 

“Yes.” 

Andrew pulls him forward and kisses Neil hard, their teeth clashing. Neil obeys when Andrew pulls him away again and guides him back down to Kevin's tented boxers. 

“Lick,” Andrew orders. 

Neil obliges, dragging his tongue along Kevin's bulge. He mouths wet kisses along the length of it. He sucks at the tip until he can taste the precum gathering there. Kevin whines, long and needy and impatient. 

By Andrews orders, Neil licks and mouths at Kevin before hooking his fingers into the waistband. Kevin's cock bobs free, springing up to smack his belly. Neil thinks it's pretty, as far as dicks go-- long and thick and hard, a few shades darker than Kevin's tan skin. The head is flushed and the hair around is trimmed neatly at Neil's request. 

Kevin smells like clean sweat and musk and the scented body wash from his shower. Neil kisses his clean thigh once, twice, three times before he licks softly. From the inside of Kevin's thigh, over his hip bones and around the V between them. Only when Kevin becomes a growling, impatient mess does Andrew let Neil touch Kevin's throbbing member. 

Neil licks from base to tip and down again, savoring Kevin's growled curses. He mouths all over his balls, careful to avoid the teeth. Neil spends long minutes teasing before he finally takes Kevin into his mouth and swallows him down. He cringed at the taste but relaxed his throat and takes Kevin down to the root. 

Andrews hand threads through Neil's hair, murmuring “good boy.” 

Kevin is a mess below them, letting Andrew muffle his moans. Neil lets him thrust into his mouth, taking it with the ease of practice. When Kevin's hips grow erratic, Neil starts humming the theme song to Andrews favorite sci-fi show. 

Kevin finished with a groaned string of swears. Neil rubs at his own tented boxers, and glances up to see if Andrew wants Neil to finish in the shower. Andrew looks at Neil, and down to the hard on trapped beneath worn thin boxers. 

“Yes or no?” Andrews gaze is heavy enough to make Neil shiver in anticipation. 

“Yes.” Neil doesn't care what it is, he knows that he wants Andrew any way that he is allowed to have. 

Andrew smothers his mouth with a kiss, pushing Neil down onto the mattress, between Kevin's splayed legs. Andrew can feel the thick cords of scars underneath his clothes-- scars that Andrew has only glimpsed at, and still does not know the stories of. Rough hands rub over Neil's chest, catching and pinching at his nipple despite the cloth barrier. 

Neil moans low and sweet, spurring Andrew to move things along. He makes no move to remove Neil's hideous shirt, but the worn boxers are torn away with a ripping noise that Andrew ignores. Neil must not have heard-- he would have been complaining if he had. 

Neil's dick is smaller than Kevin's and even Andrew's. It's as thin and pale as the rest of him. Andrew licks at the freckle on Neil's hip. Kevin, feeling a little left out, sits up to kiss the moans from Neil's mouth. 

Andrew takes Neil in, all flushed skin and big blue eyes with long lashes. His lips are red and swollen from sucking on Kevin. Neil's cock is drooling for them. Andrew licks it up before it can fall far and watches Neil's lips gasp open. 

“Andrew! Oh god.” Neil sounds wrecked. If he's this easily wound up, Andrew can understand why Kevin keeps inviting Neil to the bedroom. 

“Not quite.” 

Neil huffs a laugh that turns to a whine. Kevin is nibbling at Neil's neck, biting down and sucking hard at the base of his pulse. Andrew bobs back down, finally taking Neil into his mouth. His tongue swirls as his nose presses against Neil's belly. 

Neil is babbling nonsense between Kevin's lips, half moans and half curses and gasping their names like prayers. Andrew doesn't go slow-- he sucks and bobs and flicks his tongue against the sensitive veins. He turns Neil's trick against him and hums nonsensically until Neil is a begging mess. 

“Andrew, Drew, I'm so close. I-” Neil stutters, “I'm gonna cum.” 

It's enough warning that Andrew could pull away but he doesn't. Neil is below him making such pretty noises and Kevin is hard again already. Andrew keeps his pace steady and lets Neil finish, licking his lips as he pulls away. 

“That is was good,” Neil pants, still unsteady and a little euphoric. But he needs Andrew to know. “You're amazing.” 

“It was just a blowjob.” 

Neil shrugs, languid. “Nobody's done that for me before. Usually I'm the one... you know.” 

Hot anger spikes through Andrew. He leaves before he can ruin the moment. He takes the first shower, making Neil wait before he can brush his teeth. Andrew takes care of his own throbbing erection and cums with the taste of Neil on his tongue. 

When he returns, Kevin and Neil are back to fooling around on the bed. Neil has a Kevin bend on his hands and knees, one hand pulling at Kevin's dick and the other pressing three fingers inside of him. 

“Jesus fuck! Neil, oh fuck yes!” Kevin yells.

He's surprisingly loud in bed… or maybe not such a surprise, considering how argumentive kevin can be. 

“Fuck me. Goddamn it, Neil, fuck me! I need it, I need you, pl- just fuck me already.” 

“Not today,” Neil says, far too calm for a man with four fingers up someone's ass. Andrew can see the little pinch between Neil's eyebrows, can see how careful he is with Kevin like this. 

“I need to cum, Neil. Now! Fuck, let me cum.” 

Neil doesn't answer, but he angles his fingers up, pressing into that sweet spot that makes Kevin scream. The hand on his dick pumps faster, and then Kevin is cumming again. 

Show over, Andrew leaves for his cup of coffee. The carafe has gone cold and he doesn't want to make another pot so he microwaves a cup. He considers making breakfast but it's nearly noon now anyway. Andrew takes his coffee to the bedroom. Kevin and Neil are cuddled together in a puddle of bliss on the bed. Kevin plays with Neil's hair. It's getting long, and the reddish roots are beginning to show. Andrew knows Neil will dye it again soon. 

“You ruined my underwear,” Neil pouts. 

“It was a mercy killing,” Andrew says, voice flat. Neil rolls his eyes and presses back into Kevin's stomach. 

“Get dressed, I need to eat.” 

Kevin's stomach rumbles in agreement. Neil is shoved gracelessly off the bed, where he stumbles to recover. He flips Kevin the finger while he digs for a set of clothes. By now their clothes have all mixed and everyone has some scattered around all three of their apartments. 

“You guys should just move in here.” Kevin scoffs as Neil fumbles for jeans without any underwear. Andrew throws a shirt at him, a black one that is probably Andrew's because it isn't two sizes too big. Or maybe it was Kevin's. 

“Why here? I like my apartment.” Neil's objection is halfhearted at best. The whole thing has an air of hypothetical. 

“Because mines bigger. And it has the California King mattress. We don't have to squeeze onto a twin on the floor. Obviously this is the best option.” 

“Mine is cheaper. You could use your money for other things.” Neil argues. 

“Because the roof leaks and the shower barely works and the faucet water is brown. There are actual holes in the walls. You can hear all of your neighbors.” Kevin states hotily. 

“It's not that bad.” The elevator opens and they head down to the lobby. 

“I can't believe you're actually arguing. Don't be stupid. My apartment is much nicer. It's worth the money.” 

“Andrew?” Neil notices that their partner hasn't said anything for a while. They step onto the street and suddenly this conversation feels too private to have in public. 

“You're going to have to buy more furniture. And I am not sleeping on orange sheets.” Andrew seems to agree with Kevin for a change. Neil stares in shock. 

“Are You serious? Because if this is a joke--” Neil is wary. Suddenly things seem much less hypothetical and far more like something that is actually happening. 

Andrew shrugs. He looks over his shoulder at Kevin. “Yes or no?”

“Yes, of course. That's why I offered. But I'm not moving into the little rat hole apartment you two have. I have standards.” 

“Holy shit.” Neil stops walking. People on the sidewalk move around them. 

“Don't have a crisis, Neil. We've been living together for weeks. The difference is now we don't have to apartment hop. Wrangle your issues. No panic attacks before noon.”


	30. Chapter 30

A night at Eden's Twilight ends early when Neil makes the rounds around the room with a tray of dirty dishes and winds up cornered beneath the stairs. It doesn't take Andrew long to realize Neil is missing and even less time to find the idiot. 

The thing is, Neil is good at starting fights-- he's pretty and small in stature, which turns everything smartass comment turn into a challenge. But he isn't very good at actual physical fighting. If Neil can't get his opponent on the ground within the first few minutes, things tend to go downhill fast. Luckily for Neil, he has Andrew. 

Andrew, who drags the asshole away by his hair and lands a jab to the kidney and then his face. Probably a nose or lip, considering all the blood that suddenly bursts forth. 

Hey know when enough lines have been crossed that they need to go home. Andrew doesn't care who will cover for them, because it's not his problem. His concern is Neil or Kevin or himself-- because nobody else will consider their needs, or put them first. They never have before, and it is unlikely that they ever will. So Andrew does, and he gathers Kevin and leads Neil home by the scruff of his neck. 

Kevin is drunk enough by now that he doesn't complain too much. He lets Andrew lead him to bed and promptly passes out. Neil looks in trepidation at both of the bedrooms (the main one that they mostly try to share, and the spare where Andrew usually sleeps.) 

Their apartment around them is cluttered with boxes from the move. Mostly Andrews, because Neil is a minimalist if anything. 

“I don't want to be here”, Neil admits lowly. 

It's partially because of the phantom hands of a stranger on his skin. In part, it is also because of the packed boxes and clutter and things that suggest Neil belongs here with some sort of permanence. All week the ghost of his mother has been pulling at his ear and smacking his head and telling him how stupid he is for letting himself belong anywhere. That he should have left when Andrew first dared to enter his apartment. 

Andrew takes them to the roof. It had been locked off before but when Andrew started staying here more he broke the knob to allow them access for time like this. Times when the walls felt too close and their skin shivered. 

They sit at the ledge, close but not quite touching. Andrew smokes while Neil breathes the smoke in. Hours pass before either of them speak. 

“You're going to fall off if you fall asleep here.” Andrews voice is gruff from smoke and disuse. 

Neil grumbles, shakes his head so his hair flips. “I'm not asleep.” 

“Come here.” 

Andrew wraps an arm around Neil to pull his idiot close. Neil slumps against him in exhaustion, relieved to be somewhere safe. Andrew doesn't wake him when Neil's head dips down to rest on Andrews shoulder. His hair tickles Andrews face. Andrew keeps his arm steady around Neil's side, steadying him from tumbling over the edge. 

 

 

It's Neil's turn to pick up dinner again. It's been weeks since the encounter with Riko, and so far it's been fairly quiet. There seem to be more Ravens in the neighborhood, but that could just be that Neil recognizes their marks now-- the black Raven tattoo on the left hand. Still, Andrew has became even more protective, escorting Kevin everywhere from the grocery store, to his apartment, to the library or the gym. 

Kevin has become increasingly nervous since seeing Riko. Kevin is basically living with the pair of them now, switching between Andrew's and Neil's apartments. Sometimes he sprawls over half of Neil's bed-- the half closer to the wall, so Neil can get up quickly if he needs to. It's almost comforting, having someone to sleep next to. It reminds Neil of his mother, sharing the same bed, back to back so they can protect each other. Rarely do they sleep at Kevin's, but when they do it's sprawled across the large space-- Andrew to the wall, Neil to the door, and usually Kevin in the middle. If it's a restless or bad night sometimes Kevin and Neil switch spots. They're falling into a pattern. 

Kevin picks some new place to eat with veggie-heavy dishes for Kevin and pasta for Andrew. They let themselves into Andrew's apartment with their spare key and are greeted with the sound of retching. Kevin automatically retreats back to Neil's apartment instead. Neil dares to venture toward the bathroom. 

Andrew is hunched over the toilet bowl, shivering and covered in sweat. He tenses, but doesn't jump, when he sees Neil in the doorway. 

“Are you okay?” At Andrews glare, Neil corrects himself. He shakes his head, “sorry, stupid question. Do you need anything?” 

“Leave.” 

“I guess you don't want Thai then.” 

Andrew looks awful. His eyes are trimmed red and his cheeks are flushed-- it looks like he has a fever. The bathroom smells sour like bolt and sweat. Neil had never been allowed to be sick. As a child he had hated staying home sick from school because that meant staying home with Nathan or Lola. On the run his mother would smack him for being weak or lazy, for slowing them down. He doesn't know what he should do now, Neil doesn't know how to help. 

“Shut up. Get the fuck out,” Andrew snarled, all teeth and vulnerability and anger. 

Neil leaves-- when Andrew says no it's absolute. He finds himself texting Matt, who seems to make it his goal to care for the people around him. He and Neil still text, Neil knows that Matt still walks Dan to work and then home again; that he still takes her out dancing whenever she wants, that he takes care of her when she's sick. Which is why Matt is the first person Neil can think to ask. 

‘How do you fix sick person?’ Neil texts. Matt's reply is almost immediate. 

‘OMG are you sick?? ARE YOU OK??’

‘I'm fine’, Neil sends. Closely followed by ‘I've never taken care of sick people before.’

‘What? You've never been sick?’ 

‘Not really no.’

‘Oh Neil.’ Matt says. Neil Can practically hear the sigh. ‘Soup, crackers, Gatorade, meds.’

‘Meds?’ Neil wonders as he texts. His mother would hand Neil a cup of coffee and maybe bottle of DayQuil if he was really sick. 

Several texts came in a row, all from Matt. ‘Like DayQuil or Robitussin or basically anything that says ‘cold’ in it.’   
‘Look for the ‘uses’ part on the back of the boxes and compare them to the symptoms.’  
‘Who's sick, anyway?’

‘Andrew’

‘!!! Holy shit that monster gets sick???’  
And then followed by another, ‘I thought he would scare germs away’

Neil still doesn't understand how anyone could refer to Andrew as a monster. No, *the* monster-- like Andrew is the baddest of the bad. Neil knows enough monsters to know better. Andrew is nothing like Nathan, like Lola and Romero or DiMaccio. Andrew doesn't skin men to pieces, or chop them into bloody bits of meat. There are far worse monsters than Andrew, Neil knows. Andrew is a guard dog that's been beaten too many times, quick to bite but eager to please those rare few he deems worthy. Those ‘rare few’ seems to include Neil and Kevin. 

Neil goes to the store for the things Matt told him. He picks a small variety of soup because honestly, he has no idea what kind of soup Andrew would prefer. Store brand crackers. A few bottles of Gatorade. And some cough and cold medicine that isn't cheap but boasts of a fruity flavor that Neil hopes Andrew will appreciate. 

Andrew does NOT appreciate Neil's efforts. Neil hands him a bottle of Gatorade from where Andrew is collapsed in a beanbag. 

“Get out.” Andrew scowls pitifully. 

“Andrew you're sick, I can't just leave-”

The Gatorade bottle goes flying and nearly hits Neil in the head. Neil retreats.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, bitches!

Guys I don't want to give spoilers but like…… triggers ahoy. Be aware. 

 

Andrew is determined to go to work. He head learned early that appearing weak and vulnerable, in any way, was to be avoided. Therefore, pain and sickness were things to be ignored. 

So Andrew grudgingly takes a heavy dose of the medicine one of his idiots had brought, quickly followed by a few swallows of whichever alcohol meets his hand first. He forces himself to shower, to dress in a black turtleneck and dark jeans, and walks to work with Neil, despite his concerns protests. 

“You're pretty sick. Are you sure you should be going to work?” 

“You sound like Kevin.” 

“What if you puke on a customer?” 

“Stop talking.” If Neil keeps talking about puke, there is a pretty good chance that Andrew will vomit on simply out of spite. 

“Seriously, it would probably get you fired.It would be disgusting. You would have to listen to Kevin whine for weeks.” 

“Shut your mouth or I will shove that bat down your throat.” Andrew's eyes flicker to the metal bat leaning beside Neil's door. 

Neil dresses quickly in some of the clothes that Andrew had helped him pick out. He walks with Andrew to the club, neither of them speaking. Andrew looks pale, almost green from what must be nausea. If he stumbles, he doesn't dare let Neil help him rebalance. He stops to puke in an alley once, and he lets Neil hold him up with an arm around Andrew's shoulders. 

They lose each other at work. Andrew doesn't come back to check on Neil and after a few rounds around the room, Neil begins to wonder why he doesn't see Andrew behind the bar. He finds Roland. 

“Where's Andrew?” 

“Went home sick. I meant to tell you but it's crazy tonight. Hey can you grab me that--” 

Neil knows he should have tried harder to make Andrew stay home. Not that he could ever make Andrew do anything, ever. Not really. Neil hopes he made it home okay. He shoots a text out. 

“When did he leave?” 

“Oh, a half hour ago?” Roland glances at the clock. “Oh wow, it's later than I thought. An hour ago, then.” 

Andrew should definitely be home by now. Neil returns to the kitchen to wash. He worries about the awful things that could happen to Andrew in the dark streets. There are tons of alleys between here and their apartment. If his father's men had seen him with Andrew, they would take him. Or the Ravens, which seem to be multiplying. Or any cracked out junkie. Andrew could take care of himself, Neil knows-- he had bruises from sparring practice to prove it; but still, he can't settle the sick feeling in his gut. 

On his next round across the club, he sees Kevin. Neil gets his attention, and is greeted with a sloppy drunk kiss. Neil shoved Kevin back impatiently. 

“Have you talked to Andrew tonight? In the last hour.” 

“No why would I? Roland is a perfectly fine bartender. And I'm not ready to leave yet,” Kevin pouts. 

Neil worries. Andrew still hasn't texted back. He takes the tub only half full and returns to the kitchen. Neil dials his phone, straining to hear over the sounds that filter in through the door. It goes straight to voicemail. That's not something Andrew would do-- he always has his phone on so Neil and Kevin can call if they need to. He wouldn't turn his phone off if he left work, if he left Neil and Kevin alone. 

Neil finds Kevin and tells Roland he's leaving-- giving the worried look on Neil's face, the bartender doesn't argue. He calls for one of the bouncers to pick up the slack. Neil hails a cab because it will be quicker than walking. The driver looks nervous about the neighborhood but Neil drops a few twenties at the man without asking for the total. 

Neil races ahead, leaving Kevin to stumble his way up the stairs. The worry in his stomach won't go away and Neil checks his own apartment first. Without Andrew there to tell him to calm down his paranoia, Neil grabs the bat from behind the door. He's always been good at starting fights but even with Andrews training, Neil isn't sure he could take someone in a fight-- not if they could take Andrew. Neil would rather stack the odds on his own favor. 

Andrews door is locked, and dread builds in his stomach. Neil hopes Andrew didn't bolt it and unlocks it with the spare key. Something is wrong, he knows it. 

The scene before him sends his stomach rolling. Andrew is face down on the floor, his clothes torn and littered about the room. A man at least twice their size is moving suddenly towards Neil. 

Neil understands instantaneously. He's been in that position too many times not to. Andrews laughter is twisted and pained, hysteric. Neil can see his body trembling, blood dripping from his head and his nose and his lips. The man snarls at Neil. 

Neil moves without considering consequences-- he swings the bat up, into the man's throat. He staggers, clutching uselessly at his neck. Neil's next swing crushes through his skull. Blood splatters across Neil and the room around them. He hopes that none landed on Andrew, but that hardly matters right now. 

Behind the door, Neil hears Kevin finally catch up, and gasp. He stumbles back into the door frame, and then retreats to Neil's open apartment. Neil lets him, busy with Andrew. He grabs a blanket from the bed and drags it over. He uses the blood in Andrews thighs to gauge how bad the injury is. 

Neil doesn't ask if Andrew is okay; he doesn't tell him that it's okay now. Because that's all useless and they both know it. Neil doubts this was Andrews first rape. He would bet that Andrew knew the corpse on the ground. 

Neil helps Andrew sit, lets Andrew lean against him. At least the laughter has stopped. Andrew finally looks at Neil, sees the blood on his face and shirt. 

“What did he do? Did he touch you?” Andrews voice is slurred. Judging by the swelling gash on his temple, Neil would guess that Andrew is concussed. 

“He didn't touch me. Kevin is in my apartment, safe. It's just us. Are you okay for a minute? I can leave Kevin with you, or take you to a hospital. Whatever you want, but I need to get rid of this body before the cops show.” Neil prattles as he plans. He thinks he can steal a car and dispose of the corpse the same way Lola had disposed of Neil's mother. 

Kevin calls behind them, finally daring to enter the room. “The police are in the way.” 

“Fuck. I killed a man, Kevin. You called the cops. You better get me a good lawyer when they arrest me.” 

Because Neil can't run now. Not when Andrew is so hurt and Kevin is scared to even look at them. Neil glances over at the corpse, and sees it lacking the Raven tattoo-- not a Raven, then. It must be one of Andrews demons. 

The next hour is a flurry of mess-- the ambulance arrives with the cops. They load Andrew onto a stretcher, and Neil ito a police car with his hands cuffed behind his back. The feel of the cuffs makes him squirm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did this make you cry? Did you miss me?


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I wrote this once. And it was amazing. And then some docs monster ate it or something idk. And I didn’t remember everything and I was in a hurry, so here. Have this instead. It’s filler anyway :)

I… I swear this was amazing the fucking FIRST TIME I wrote it. And then I lost it under mysterious circumstances and basically typed this last minute transition chapter up to replace it. Basically filler. I’m sorry if it’s not up to par. 

 

******

The best perks to dating Kevin Day are his big cock, and his lawyer. 

After spending half the morning in a cell, it was nice to be doing something useful. He had spent hours in his cell, thankfully alone, listening to the taunts of the people around him. Most of them were the usual pretty boy threats. Some of them had gotten pretty creative but Neil was his father’s son- he had heard worse. 

They had taken his bloody clothes too. He was stuck in grey sweatpants that sagged on his skinny hips and a white shirt that was so long that the baggy pants didn’t matter. They had served him breakfast that Neil hadn’t been able to touch and left him alone to let his memories haunt him. He saw Andrew every time he blinked. He should have killed that piece of shit slower. But now Andrew was in a hospital and Neil is in Jail. At least they were making progress. 

Said lawyer is currently sitting with Neil at a metal table. Neil is cuffed, the lawyer is not. He has a notebook and pen in front of him, and a dangerously impassive face. If Neil has learned anything from Andrew now, 

He doesn’t understand most of it but his lawyer keeps insisting that it was in defense of his boyfriend. It was all pretty cut and clear, except that Drake Spear was a marine, and apparently that made him an upstanding citizen in the eyes of the law. Drake Spear was a marine and Neil was a whore. It was obvious where the loyalties lied here. 

“Mister Spear is under investigation in California,” mister Avins argues. “Yet he still managed to board a plane and attack my clients partner. This is cut and dry, Officer. Quit wasting my time.” 

“Your client is a male prostitute. One we have picked up before. Who are you to say he didn’t see his partner,” the man sneers the word, “cheating on him and reacted?” 

Avins glowers minutely. “If I need to sue the department for homophobic officers I will.”

Things move quicker after that. He’s shuffled to his cell for several more hours while Avins speaks with a judge about bail. Kevin pays and Neil is escorted to an office for a ton of paperwork and then to Kevin. 

He doesn’t look like he’s slept. He looks pale and anxious but his face drops in relief when he sees Neil unmarred. 

“Oh thank god. Come on, we have to get to Easthaven. They’re putting Andrew into rehab early,” Kevin grabs Neil’s hand and leads him to the car. 

Kevin must have picked up clothes, because he hands Neil something besides sweats. A bag of jeans and a shirt that may be Andrew’s, considering how baggy it is in the chest and arms. Plus one of Kevin’s hoodies. Neil changes in the backseat. He doesn’t want to stay in the prison sweats that stink like disinfectant and dust. 

To Neil’s frustration, Kevin drives and takes twice the time to get there. He even counts the seconds at stop signs and it’s driving Neil insane. He practically runs inside when Kevin finally parks. He’s still at the hospital, probably waiting for Kevin and Neil. Andrew wouldn’t want to leave without seeing his partners. 

Neil finds a doctor and demands to know where Andrew is. Kevin pulls him back a step and asks more politely. His publicity grin is nothing like the smile he gives Andrew and Neil in the comfort of their home. This one doesn’t quite reach his eyes and the stress makes him look pinched. 

“We’re here for Andrew Minyard. We’re his partners.” 

“Oh, he’s been asking for you. You must be great work colleagues.” 

“What?” Neil pipes up. “We’re dating.” 

“Oh, so you’re the boyfriend?” 

“We’re both the boyfriend.” Neil insists. 

The doctor looks at them with a frown. “Well, I’m not homophobic. I think you two look cute together. Now, your friend is this way-“ 

Neil huffs. He’s tired and his boyfriend is hurt and this idiot is stalling. “We are all three dating. The sex is amazing. Bring us to our boyfriend.” 

The doctors face blushes red now. “Oh. Th- this way.” 

Andrew has a private room. He must have refused pain meds because looks like he’s in pain. Anyone else would be fooled by his passive fave but Neil can see he’s paler than usual and has a little pinch between his eyebrows. 

“So they decided not to lock you up and throw away the key,” he says to Neil. “Bad decision.” 

“Probably,” Neil agrees. “You didn’t let them drug you?” 

Andrew grins. He’s still on his meds then. “Would go well with the antipsychotics.” 

“You ready to go?” 

“Let the torture begin.” Andrew stands with a wince. 

Neil scoffs. He offers Andrew his hand, but of course Andrew smacks it away. 

“Come on, Drew. This is for the best. You hate your meds.” 

“You’re awfully chipper for someone who was just arrested for murder.” 

“And I would do it again,” Neil agrees without hesitation. 

“How convenient it is that you’re on Kevinsitting! If Riko shows his face you can cut his head off and mount it by the door as a warning to every other Raven in the city.” 

Neil frowns. He doesn’t want to become his father, but he isn’t going to let an amateur psychopath like Riko take away Neil’s world. He had worked hard for this, and he wasn’t going to let go without a fight. 

“You think he’s going to try something when he realizes you’re gone?” 

Kevin nods, his face stony. “He will. With Andrew gone he will think it’s just Neil keeping me from him.” 

“You two just stay in the apartment. Call Rolland and take some vacation days. You just saw your boyfriend raped, use it to your advantage.” Andrew’s words are sneered with as much hatred as he can manage with the medication. “Binge watch Exy games and do whatever you idiots do when I’m not there.” 

“Sex,” Neil chimes in. 

Kevin scowls at him, but a blush still darkens his cheeks. Andrew gives a huff of amusement. After all, the first perk of dating Kevin is his nice cock and Neil takes full advantage of it when he isn’t locking himself in the bathroom on a bad day. 

Andrew let’s Neil drive, relegating Kevin to the backseat. They all pause when Andrew lowers himself into the passenger seat with a hiss. They know the pain well. Andrew turns up the stereo to block out the noise of his boyfriends’s concern on the way to Easthaven. 

It looks like a prison. Gates and cameras and locked doors with key cards; Guards and buff orderlies to restrain the more troublesome patients. It makes Andrew’s skin crawl, but he keeps his face blank as he checks himself in. The hospital had already set things up and they were expecting Andrew here. He takes one last look at his boyfriends and then refuses to turn around. He has to get through this. He will get through this and deal with whatever fallout may occur later, when he isn’t mandated to be high as fuck.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the last one kind of sucked, have another chapter ;)

They last a few weeks before Kevin and Neil tire of each other. Andrew was a good peacekeeper when he wasn’t playing instigator. Or maybe because they were busy taking turns sniping at Andrew, they didn’t notice how annoying each other’s habits were. Kevin chewed everything like a cow, and always picked the history channel if there wasn’t a game on. 

And Neil’s shedding hair was disgusting Kevin; it was on Kevin’s clothes, the couch, the tables, and Kevin’s lunch. 

Pulling a curly hair out of his chicken salad, Kevin gags. 

“It’s just a hair, Kevin. Not like you’ve had my dick in your mouth or anything.” 

“It’s not the same, Neil! I’m not actually swallowing your cock- don’t even say it. Shut up. Finding your hair everywhere is disgusting. Don’t you ever brush it?” 

“Yes.” Neil scowls, unamused. “You think your boyfriend’s hair is disgusting, but I’m the one who saw the gross naked women porn you hide in the bathroom! I can’t unsee that, Kevin. Andrew told you to throw it out, or at least put it somewhere we don’t have to look at it! I know you have hiding spots where we can’t reach, because I had a whole box of banana chips go missing, and I know Andrew didn’t take them.”

“I didn’t steal your damn banana chips!” He had simply thrown them away after Neil had used the last of the protein shake powder. 

“Then where did they go, Kevin?! They didn’t walk away.” 

“I don’t know! Maybe you fucking _ate them?_ ”

“If I had eaten them, I wouldn’t be accusing you of hiding them from me!” 

“I don’t even like banana chips! They taste like banana, and death.” 

“I know, which means you took them purely out of spite.” 

“Oh my god, would you shut the fuck up about your goddamn banana chips? You’re driving me crazy! It’s like I can’t get away from you.” 

Neil stops short. “Oh. So you don’t want me around anymore?”

Kevin glares, but deflated a little. “That’s not what I said.” 

“No, that is definitely what you said.” 

“No, that’s not what I meant!” 

“Fuck you, Kev! I’m going out. I’ll be back later.” Neil grabs his shoes and wallet. 

Kevin tries blocking the elevator, but Neil is faster, and small enough to fuck under Kevin’s giant arms. 

“Neil, come back! Andrew said not to leave alone…. I’m sorry!” 

Neil doesn’t want to hear it. He puts headphones in his ears and plays some music. It’s Andrew’s iPod, the one he uses for working out in the gym. Neil doesn’t really care for the music but it’s better than replaying the string of fights he and Kevin have had over the past two weeks. 

It’s chilly today, and the sidewalks are wet from the rain. Being used to jogging in the gym, it’s a nice change to be setting his own pace outside, breathing the cool air. Maybe this is all he needed- just a few minutes away from Kevin to clear his head. They had been fighting out of frustration, not because Neil truly hated seeing the magazines or those history shows. The naked women weren’t Neil’s thing, but Kevin was bi, and Neil accepted that about him. 

The sun drops and the grey sky darkens to black above the street lamps. Neil is miles from the apartment when it starts to rain, and Neil considers calling Kevin for a ride, but his phone isn’t in his pocket. It’s still on the table in the apartment. He’ll have to wait to apologize to Kevin, but at least Neil can pick up dinner while he’s out. He thinks that Kevin’s favorite restaurant is nearby somewhere. 

Thinking it was two streets to his left, neil turns down an alleyway for a shortcut. He hadn’t noticed the two shadows following him for the last few blocks, but he does notice the sound of feet following after him. His thoughts thinking back to when those men raped him all those weeks ago, Neil runs- right into a baseball bat. Riko holds the other end. 

Neil isn’t surprised that Riko took advantage of Andrews absence. 

“Nathaniel Wesninski, correct?” 

Neil freezes at the name. His world tilts off sideways, unseating him in the shock. Riko should not know that name. “We have not had the pleasure of officially meeting. The first and last time we saw each other, you broke my nose.”

“I’ll do worse than that if you don’t stop touching me.” Neil unleashed him grin like a wicked snake, quick and sharp and hungry. 

“There is no need for such unpleasantness. All I want is Kevin, and you can keep the blonde. Do you think Andrew would trade you? Would he give me Kevin for you?” 

_No_ , Neil thinks. _He can’t have kevin._ Kevin wouldn’t live through Riko again but Neil was stronger than him. Nathaniel was raised on blood and pain from infancy. Riko didn’t know how to break him. 

“Make a deal with me. If you leave Kevin alone, you can have me. I promise that I won’t break as easily,” Neil smile slowly stretches across his face, taunting and cruel.

Riko gives him a slow once over, like so many johns before him. Neil leans against the wall and lets Riko step forward. He even parts his legs for Riko to step between them. He clenches his shaking hands into fists at his sides when the gang leader shoved one hand down the front of Neil’s pants to fondle him and then squeezes Neil’s ass hard enough to bruise. 

“Turn around.” 

Neil turns. 

“Bend over.”

Neil bends at the hips and grips the wall for support. This is old news. Kevin’s safety was more than worth it. Andrew will get released and Kevin will be protected. 

Riko pulls down the back of Neil’s pants and shoves two dry fingers unceremoniously up Neil’s ass. Neil hisses from the burn. Riko pulls them out just as quickly and swats Neil’s ass before he steps away. 

Neil takes his time fixing his jeans like he isn’t trembling inside. He doesn’t let it show, and he studies Riko for clues. There is a gleam in his eye and the man nods. 

“I will enjoy having a new toy to break.” 

He has to push down the disgust. But he goes with them willingly. One of the larger men grabs Neil’s arm and hauls him along anyway. They walk to a run down house in the worst part of town- Riko was obviously struggling, without Kevin’s money to keep him afloat. The motel is a disgrace- something Neil and his Mary would have rented. He remembers jogging past it earlier; Riko must have seen him and followed. Neil has actually been here several times, with clients. The paint was chipping from the wides and doors, the lawn overgrown with stringy weeds. The inside smelled terrible. There was a worn bed that looked salvaged from a dumpster- mysterious stains coated the torn material and stuffing fell out in clumps. The bathroom was uninhabitable. It smelled of alcohol, mold, and stale sweat. 

A hand fists in Neil’s hair, jerking his attention back to Riko. Suddenly a mouth is on his, biting and licking it’s way inside. Neil tells himself to relax- it’s less painful if he doesn’t fight. But this is _Riko_ , the man who hurt Kevin, and his breath smells rank and tastes like pond scum. Neil gags when he pulls away. 

“How dare you!” Riko hits him. 

It’s an open handed slap. Neil had worse hits from his own mother. He laughs. 

“You’re pathetic. Seriously, this is your secret hideout? No wonder you have inferiority issues. Without Kevin paying your way, you’re nothing but some useless trash in a crack den. No way to make an income, no money from your family- you can’t even think of grander schemes beyond mugging helpless children and tourists.”

With a motion from Riko, one of the larger boys grabs Neil’s hands, twisting them back behind him and tying them there with plastic zips. Neil had expected as much, though his heart stutters out of reflexive fear. The plastic pinched and cuts into the soft skin there. 

Riko looms over him. He grabs a fist full of Neil’s hair and pulls, wrenching his head back to an uncomfortable angle- far enough back that he struggled to breathe. The other hand fisted in front of Neil’s shirt, keeping him close. 

Riko pressed flush against Neil’s bent back. He ducks to whisper in his ear. “You are nothing but a pathetic child and a whore. And whores use their mouths for dicks, and not chattering.” 

“I thought you liked them fiery,” Neil croaks. “Isn’t that why you whored Kevin out? You got bored of him after you broke him.” 

“I’m going to enjoy breaking you. Feel free to scream when it gets to be too much.”

Riko forcibly strips Neil of his shirt, the knife in his hand is clumsy and careless, cutting into Neil’s flesh. It leaves thin bleeding cuts over his torso and arms. 

Riko calls over one of his men. “Give me the heroin.” 

“No!” Neil pulls harder at his binds. “No. No.” 

Someone picks him up and throws him on the bed, hard enough to bounce. 

“Fucking- don’t touch me. Fuck you!” Neil kicks the one closest to him, and someone laughs. 

“It’s nice to have something with fight in them,” someone comments. “That last bitch just cried.” 

Someone takes off his shoes and sits on his knees so Neil can’t kick out. His knees scream at the protest and Neil half expects something to break. But he fights as much as he can. He knows the stories Kevin told him, and Neil can guess what happens next. They’ll drug him the first few times, to keep him compliant. They’ll fuck him until they get bored of him. Neil hasn’t done drugs, other than whatever that crazy old couple had doped him up with so long ago.

“Get off of me,” Neil growls. He squirms under the men holding him down. A couple of them are gripping themselves through their jeans. 

He doesn’t know what to expect, but he tenses when Riko sits in Neil’s chest, forcing Neil’s bounds into the mattress under their combined weight. He thinks he feels blood drawing already. 

Someone hands Riko a needle, and grabs Neil’s shoulder. 

“Don’t fucking come near me with that! Get off of me, you psychotic asshole.”

Neil twists beneath Riko, eye level with the growing erection in the psychopath’s pants. Even pinned, Neil fights to get free. Finally they tire of Neil’s struggles and a man grabs Neil’s elbow. He pulls, and doesn’t let go until something goes _pop_ and Neil loses feeling from the shoulder down. His arm sags useless and maneuverable in the man’s hands. Neil doesn’t feel the needle go in, but he feels the rush of mind numbing euphoria quickly after. 

They wait until Neil sags into the mattress. Then they stand and make quick work tearing away his clothes. Neil is too high to fight and too distant to care. His world is shimmering and slow like molasses. He doesn’t like the hands on him. They feel cold and Neil wants to get away. He doesn’t want to be here in this dingy motel room with a pack of strangers gathered around him like starving wolves. He wants Andrew. 

The first intrusion splits Neil open like a virgin. He groans from the pain but his body doesn’t seem capable of moving, much less fighting. He squirms beneath the hands, trying to distance himself from the pain. 

“Look at him,” someone says. It’s like listening from underwater; it sounds distant and distorted. “He’s high as fuck. Did you overdose him?” 

“No. That would be a waste of drugs. And then the party would be over before I even got to fuck him. What kind of idiot you think I am, boss?”

“I don’t know,” someone chimes in. “I’d still fuck him. I mean, he’d be cold but still tight.”

Oh god. Neil feels sick. 

More voices that he can’t bring himself to pay attention to. His mouth hurts and he tastes blood. Did someone hit him? Did he bite his own tongue? It fades, shadowed by the throbbing in his guts and between his legs. 

There’s a tempo that matches the sharp flares in his ass. As the tempo speeds up, the pain turns to agony and Neil screams. He thinks he screams. He doesn’t hear anything aside from the slapping rhythm and little high pitched noises. His mouth is open. Are those little noises coming from him?


	34. Chapter 34

Sometimes they drug him but mostly they don’t. He isn’t sure what he hates more. When he’s drugged he turns into a useless rag doll that the Ravens can use as they please. When he isn’t, he craves the drugs so strongly it’s unbearable. His body aches from the beatings he’s been given. It’s Riko that decides when to give Neil the drugs; sometimes he feels like fucking some compliant hole, and others he wants something that will fight back. Something he can punish. 

The first few times had been the worst. Riko had torn Neil, but the rest of them afterward had done the most damage, he thinks. Too many men at once. Eventually blood had eased the way. Blood and cum, probably. Housekeeping staff would never get these sheets clean again. They would have to be burned. 

Eventually he had gone numb down there, but Riko had been right. Neil had screamed until they put a gag in his mouth. At least, he thinks he screamed. He was so high- he _is_ so high that everything feels like a dream. Sometimes he hurts when they fuck him. Sometimes he can’t deal anything. And sometimes he wakes up beeping like he was torn in half, like his guts are trying to melt their way out of him, but Neil can’t remember why. He blames it on the drugs. The same thing had happened in Colorado. 

“I think you would be used to being fucked hard. Andrew may be on the shorter side, but he has a good temper on him. I bet he fucks you rough like the cheap whore you are.” 

Riko was fucking him now. Around them, his men were packaging pills and things for delivery. Riko had hours before he had to be anywhere, and he did enjoy an audience. He got off on the voyeurism, on showing his men how strong he was, that he could rape a boy who was tied up. What a big man he was. 

Neil wasn’t drugged this time and Riko liked hearing Neil try to bite off the little pained noises. He liked seeing Neil cry. He would smear the tears around Neil’s face and when he got bored of that he pinched Neil’s nose and let him suffocate with the gag in his mouth. Neil couldn’t look, but the wet he could feel between his cheeks and thighs told him he was bleeding a lot. He could feel it caked to his groin and pubic hair. 

Riko pulls out at the last minute and crawls his way up Neil’s body to sit in his chest. He strokes himself furiously until he’s cumming on Neil’s face in thick globs that smell putrid. Riko sighs, but doesn’t move. He reaches to the nightstand for a cigarette and lights it, watching the mess dry to Neil’s face as he smokes leisurely. When he’s done he puts the embers out on Neil’s cheek like one would an ashtray. 

They had covered him in little round burns; they used cigarettes and joints and lighters, pocking his skinny chest and bruised thighs and once toned stomach. 

Neil is starving when he isn’t high, so it must have been a few days. Though he isn’t sure if he could eat anything even if he was offered. Between his discolored ribs, and the withdrawal making his stomach churn and sometimes Neil coughs bile onto the bed. Yeah, they were never getting these sheets cleaned. Neil can hardly move; he’s cuffed, shivering and ill. His shoulder is basically useless now hanging at his side. He can barely hobble to the bathroom. He thinks sometimes they let him shower, because he chokes on the water that runs over his face. Neil has a hard time keeping track of his injuries. He thinks that the repeated drugging and withdrawal are taking its toll on his brain. Maybe it’s bloodless? Riko cuts him sometimes. He likes the way Neil’s body clenches around him when Riko hurts him. Neil knows, because Riko tells him as much. Maybe it’s a combination of the blood loss and drugs. Maybe he’s in shock. 

Neil sees Andrew sometimes, when he’s high out of his mind and shifting lifelessly beneath some man, like some rag doll as he gets fucked. He sees Andrew in the corner of his eye, always just out of reach. Sometimes he shakes his head, but he never approaches Neil, and he never speaks. Sometimes he thinks he sees Kevin, too. Kevin never stays long, though. He always leaves when Riko starts unbuckling his pants. He doesn’t mind the others, but he never stays for Riko. 

Logically, he knows that he’s hallucinating. He doesn’t know how long they keep him because he’s never lucid enough to tell day from night when they drug him senseless. He thinks they put a dog collar on him. He has something tight around his neck, constricting his breathing constantly. He tries to take it off on the rare moments that he’s left alone and it hurts. He can feel it bruising and chafing. His wrists, too. They only cut the ties away to let him use the bathroom and that’s only because none of them want to fuck someone covered in shit and piss. Maybe they do feed him, since Neil still has those bodily functions. Maybe they do it when he’s high so he doesn’t vomit it up during the withdrawal periods. 

Sometimes Neil doesn’t recognize the strangers that Riko brings in. The men and women that the Ravens bring by don’t stay long, but he’s used to that; he was a whore, after all. Riko must be doing business wrong, because he’s still complaining about not having enough money. Maybe if they run out of funding he’ll leave Neil on the street to die. At least the peace would be nice. 

More days pass. More beatings, more rape, some food and a couple of showers. He watches money exchange hands and Neil laughs until everyone is staring at him, and then he laughs harder. To shut him up Riko hits him and shoves another needle in his arm. His elbows are riddled with bloody little pinches. He’s lost all the weight he had gained living with Andrew and Kevin. That keeps happening. On and on again. Maybe this is all that Neil was meant for. 

 

****** Kevin’s POV*

 

Three weeks has passed since Neil went missing. Kevin filed a missing persons report after Neil didn’t come home that night, or even the next morning. He hasn’t answered any calls because his phone is still on the bed. The credit card in Neil’s wallet hasn’t been used- the one that was linked to Kevin’s bank account. Andrew hasn’t had any calls from anyone but Kevin. Kevin called Easthaven as soon as he filed the police report. He had gone to Eden’s multiple times, checking with Matt and Rolland and Dan, even Allison and Renee to see if they had seen Neil. Rolland hung up missing signs at the bar. But nobody bhas seen him. 

Kevin spends hours on the street with flyers, with pictures of Neil’s face and numbers to contact with information. He’s desperate. The police department keeps telling him that the chances of survival drop drastically after 24 hours, and hint that he should be preparing for the worst but fuck that. Their little fox has suffered enough. So many scars on that malnourished body; so many nightmares in his head where not even Kevin and Andrew could reach. Neil had suffered so much already, and it makes Kevin sick to think of what could be happening to him now. He had told Kevin and Andrew about the couple from Denver, who ‘adopted’/kidnapped him. It had been the first time Neil had been raped, and it had destroyed him. It was the underlying reason why he sold himself with so little regard for his health and safety. So no, Kevin won’t stop until he has Neil in his arms. 

Kevin picks up Andrew at Easthaven, and they swing by the pharmacy for his new depression meds. Andrew doesn’t say a word the entire drive. He throws his bag in the backseat and reclaims his keys from Kevin. It was supposed to be Neil taking care of Andrew’s car. Not Kevin. Kevin doesn’t know a thing about car maintenance and he drives like a teenager. Neil is supposed to be here; not who knows where. Andrew knows how Neil fared when he lived on his own and he doesn’t dare imagine the trouble the idiot could be in now. 

Andrew makes himself hold his temper until they’re away from prying eyes. It would not do then good have Andrew locked right back up for anger issues or some such bullshit. He parks in the private garage (one of the perks of not living in that rathole apartment he had) and grabs his bags Kevin walks in front, unlocking the apartment. It smells like that crap protein shakes and not Neil’s shampoo. The idiot loves to shower, sometimes multiple times per day. This is not how this apartment is supposed to smell. 

Andrew drops his bag and lights a cigarette from the stash Kevin hadn’t thrown away. They’re kind of stale but Andrew has bigger problems. He inhales before he rounds on Kevin. 

“What happened?” Andrews voice is cold and hard. 

Kevin swallows hard before he answers. “We had a fight and he left. He only went out for a run, but he left his phone here. That’s it. Nobody recognizes him in the posters, we’re tracking the charges on his card if he uses it but so far there’s been nothing.” 

“Where have you looked? Homeless shelters? Abandoned houses? He could be states away by now if he left.” 

Kevin shakes his head. “He wouldn’t leave us. Not over some stupid argument.” 

“You don’t know that,” Andrew scoffs. 

“He wouldn’t. So we’ll keep looking until we find him.” 

“Until I find him. You’re obviously searching the wrong way. Stay here where I don’t have to watch after you and don’t open the door for anyone but me or Neil. If you see something fishy, call me.”

“What? You think I’m in danger?” Kevin grasps at his scarred hand. 

“I think it’s convenient that Riko and his gang didn’t try and get their golden goose back while the dog was away.” 

“You think Riko has Neil. Do you know where they’re keeping him?”

“No. But I can get answers the old fashioned way.” Andrew is replacing his armbands and the knives inside. His arms feel naked without them. He also tucks a gun into his jeans. He keeps his cell phone in his pocket, unlike a certain idiot. 

“You can’t leave now, you just got back. You haven’t even eaten yet.”

As if Andrew could eat while his boyfriend was missing. He doesn’t bother explaining himself before he leaves. Without Kevin to distract him, Andrew begins his sleuthing, no matter how late he may be. He starts by hunting the Ravens. He means that he said, about Riko being suspiciously quiet. And Andrew knows by now a few of the seadier places they frequent. One of the bars was nearby his old apartment; a house at the edge of town; a club where they ran their deal out of. Andrew would make them pay for taking something of his. Riko would have to die for this offense. He has been a killer since sixteen, and Tilda had only been an abusive old woman. Riko was a mentally stunted, daddy issues, sadist with an inferiority complex. Andrew would put him down like the rabid piece of dog shit he was, regardless of the consequences. And damned be anyone that was stupid enough to stand in his way. At least it would clean the breeding pool a little. 

The bar is closest. Andrew takes his car because he doubts Neil will be at the bar, conveniently sitting on some stool with a beer. No, Andrew isn’t stupid enough to believe that. But the Ravens there will know someone, who knows someone in Riko’s circle, who knows Riko. It would be a process, but Andrew is ready to do what he needs to. He’s eager for a little bloodshed, actually, after that bullshit that was Easthaven’s therapy sessions. 

Andrew weaves his car through traffic and breaks a few traffic laws before he parks in front of the bar. It was small, and definitely looked like something shady Riko would pull. It was pretty run down, inside. Without Kevin, Riko’s money was running dry and his once high standards had obviously dropped far. There were a few guys playing pool, one with a Raven tattoo and one without. A pile of cash sat on the corner of the table like something out of a bad movie. Andrew lights a cigarette and approaches one of the men at the bar. There are three of them there, including the bartender. The bartender has a shitty goatee that should be illegal, but no ugly bird tattoos. Four on one, possibly five. Andrew has done worse, and he’s focused in his fury. 

“I’m a little late for the party, so I’m going to get to the point.” Andrew grabs one of the tattooed men by the throat and pins it to his chest. With his cigarette pinched between his fingers, he holds the ember over the raven’s eye. He dares not even blink. Nobody around them has even moved, and they were all in shock over the sudden assault. They must be really low on the food chain if they didn’t know who Andrew was, or why he was here. 

“I’m Andrew. Your boss has something of mine. One of you flea bitten mutts is going to fetch the little fuck for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can scream here or @booksaboutgay on tumblr ;)


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done!!!!!!

It takes a few days to find a Raven close enough to Riko’s inner circle that they recognize his name. Andrew spends entire days scouring the streets for feathered assholes, and beating his way through the city. It’s late now, dark. Andrew had drug one of the bird brains into a bathroom stall and held a knife to his throat. Andrew has been doing his best to cull the conspiracy, but there was only so much damage he could do without being called a serial killer. He doesn’t know how many had lived after Andrew was done with them but he had been a murderer for years. The thought didn’t bother him. There is blood gathering on the floor between their feet from the stab wound Andrew had just put in the raven’s stomach. 

“I don’t fucking know! I don’t know shit about your boyfriend. I see Riko once a week, when I give him the cash. Alright? I handle drugs, not kidnapping.”

He leaves the scum to bleed to death in the bathroom, and cleans his knife in the sink before he goes. The raven is still gasping in the stall. Andrew pulls his cell out of his pocket and checks his missed calls. There are usually several from Kevin, and even a few from Renee. Somehow she had gotten wind of Andrew’s counterinsurgency and had taken to checking up on him at least once a day. So far, nothing has been important enough for the busybodies to leave a voicemail. But now he has a voicemail alert. Andrew brings the speaker to his ear. 

_”There was a withdrawal on Neil’s card. I haven’t called the police. I- Can you just call me, asshole?”_

Andrew returns Kevin’s seven missed calls. 

“Where?” Andrew growls, the second he hears Kevin answer. His boyfriend sighs. 

“The ATM was at a convenient store.” Kevin lists an address and Andrew hangs up. 

One of the cronies had known Riko was staying in some slimy motel, but not which one. The city had far too many dive motels to check, but the ATM location narrowed their search considerably. Andrew drove and parked, and went inside for a pack of smokes. The attendant, a girl with a scabbing face and bleached yellow hair that looked twitchy and high hands him the carton and his change. 

“You seen Riko around lately?” Practice told Andrew that people were more willing to give information if they thought Andrew was in on whatever. Name dropping was a great start. “About half a foot taller than me, Asian, bag of dicks?” 

The girl cackles. “Yeah, he comes in for tequila and shit. Coffee. The coffee at the hotel must suck.” 

“Which one?” 

She waves a hand. It looks skeletal. “The STD inn.” She cackles again. “You know, the Best in, but the ‘b-e’ burned out ages ago and some loser painted a ‘d’ on the end. It’s funny,” she adds when Andrew doesn’t laugh. 

“Thanks.” He leaves behind the change for her. Maybe she’ll buy more drugs and overdose before she breeds, help save the gene pool. 

The STD inn was a block away. It was small, less than fifty rooms. But Andrew couldn’t start barging in without drawing attention to himself. So Andrew rents a room and waits to see a face he recognizes. Not that he cares, but his room has water stains and rat eaten blankets and bed bugs. It smells like someone pissed on a mouse nest. There was mold in the bathroom. Without Kevin’s funding, Riko had lowered his standards drastically. 

 

******

 

“Nathaniel,” Riko grins. He looks pleased with himself. Of course, he had just spend half an afternoon beating the shit out of Neil, so he had released some of that aggression. Then he had left the room for a phone call and returned looking pompous and smug. 

“That was your father. He is an interesting man, isn’t he? And a shrewd businessman. We did manage to come to a deal. I give him you, and he gives me a bag of cash, and Kevin hand delivered to my doorstep.” 

Nathan didn’t make deals. He takes what he wants and slaughters those who were stupid enough to stand in his way. Riko was a dead man walking. And Neil might as well be a ghost. He wonders if he can get the Ravens to overdose him before Nathan gets here. 

“Medina, Lawal, Spayer. You guard the little whore. I’m going to fetch our investor.” 

Oh fuck. Nathan was coming here. 

Neil’s chest squeezes. He doesn’t know how Riko knew who Neil was, and he doesn’t know how Riko managed to reach out to Nathan. It didn’t matter. Neil had to get out of here. 

Riko leaves with the rest of them; he must be more concerned for his own safety, than the possibility of Neil getting away. The men turn on the tv- it only gets a few channels but they take their eyes off of Neil and pass pass around a pipe of something. Neil is sure hours pass while his heart thunders in his chest. 

And then one of the men stands. “Fuck this. I’m going to go bang Darriah. She wants this dick, guys.” 

“Bro, Riko will kill you if you leave to go fuck some thot.” 

He scoffs. “The little whore ain’t going nowhere. You don’t tell Riko, he won’t find out. You gonna snitch to him?” 

“Shit naw. Go, we got him,” the third pipes up. He looks stoned. His waving hand is sloppy and his eyes are glazed over. 

And then there were two. 

“Wanna fuck him before Riko sells his ass back to daddy?” 

The stoned one grins. “I wanna make him call me daddy.”

One of the men comes at Neil with another needle of heroin. Part of Neil craves it, _needs it_ so he doesn’t feel what Nathan will do to him when he kills his son slowly. But the part of Neil that was Mary’s screamed for him to move. He kicks the man in the nose. His blood splashed hot onto Neil’s bare heel and he falls back with a garbled curse. 

The taller one- the really high guy- drags Neil from the bed and throws him into the floor where it’s easier to kick him. Neil rolls into his side, trying to protect the most vulnerable parts of his body. The bruises already ache, Neil has had plenty of beating in the time he’s been here. 

A hard boot kicks his hands, still bound behind him, and Neil feels a snap. He screams around the gag as fingers break. 

Satisfied with the sound, the two men drag Neil back onto the bed and undo their belts. Neil pulls desperately at his plastic bindes. They cut into his skin but whoever had bound his hands after the mornings bathroom break did a poor job. They had gotten complacent over the weeks. 

Neil bites through his tongue when the first man shoved himself in him without care. Neil screams himself hoarse daily. Now he sounds like some wheezing dog. 

With the men distracted, Neil can squeeze his hands through the cuffs. This will be the one and only time he has for escape. The broken bones shift and Neil screams louder. The men are laughing at him but they won’t be for long, if Neil can get himself free. He’ll kill them. He will kill all of them. 

His hand pops free during the second act. He makes himself be still until they’ve finished and one of them even lies down for a nap. Taping Neil had apparently exhausted him. The other leaves for the bathroom and Neil recognizes his slim chance. He tears the gag from his face because it’s hard to breathe with a broken nose. 

Even injured, desperation forces him to move fast. He’s been here long enough to know there are weapons in the drawers. The gun is on the table by the sleeping man but that’s too loud. The knives are in drawers, and Neil slips on of the handle into his hand. His left shoulder hangs uselessly at his side. He’s gotten used to that. It’s swollen and disgustingly bruised as the rest of him and he wonders if he’ll need surgery for it. 

He ponders this as he slits the Raven’s throat. He makes it quick, and deep enough to sever his vocal chords. The blood splashed hot onto Neil’s naked body. It’s warmer than the hot water in the shower gets. He’s dead before the last one comes out. Neil waits by the door. 

The short one sees the tall one dead on the bed first; and Neil’s empty bed second. In the moment it takes to realize what is happening, Neil wretches his hair back and cuts his bared throat open. It isn’t as deep as the first, and he makes these strangled noises as he drowns in his blood. It’s satisfying to hear, Neil can admit to himself. 

The body lands on the floor and Neil wants to run. But he’s naked and thirst and covered in blood. He can feel it cooling on his face and in his hair. He can taste it in his mouth. He would cause a lot of havoc if he stepped outside right now, in bright daylight. 

 

******

 

Andrew didn’t see the Raven leave, but he recognizes him as he walks across the parking lot. Andrew calls Renee for backup, enacting part of a plan they had set up days ago. Andrew follows behind the Raven quickly, quietly, like the spies in the movies Kevin watches. 

The door close swings behind him and Andrew pushes it back before it closes. The man looks surprised- he is stopped in the doorway, but not because of Andrew. Whatever has him so shocked gives Andrew the chance to kill him. He stabs his blade into his throat once, twice, three, four times until he’s satisfied and lets the gasping body drop. 

Then he sees what had the Raven frozen in place. Two more corpses already bled out- one lying on the bed, unsuspecting, and another on the floor by the bathroom. The bathroom door is closed and Andrew can hear a shower running. He tests the door to find it locked, but he had mastered to art of lockpicking years ago. It only takes a moment to jimmy it open. 

The bathroom smells like blood and things Andrew doesn’t want to think about. Neil is in the shower, his eyes closed, head leaning back against the wall for support. Andrew can see that he needs it. Neil’s face is bruised black and swollen. There are burns the size of a cigarette in his cheek, bright red and painful looking. His arms and chest are covered in precise incisions, cuts that Riko had left. He’s covered in so many bruises Andrew doesn’t know how he’s standing, much less fighting and killing two men. Desperation and adrenaline, he supposed. 

The door bangs against the wall and Neil’s eyes jerk to Andrew. Then his shoulders sag again. He looks disappointed. Andrew doesn’t understand. 

“You’re back.” Neil’s voice is raspy. Andrew can see the bruises on his throat. 

“You’re an idiot.” 

Neil frowns. “You don’t usually talk to me. Maybe I am going crazy.” He closes his eyes again. “I miss you. The real you.” 

Oh. _Oh._ Neil has been hallucinating. He’s been seeing Andrew. Something inside his chest aches at the words. 

“We’re leaving now.” Andrew doesn’t want them here any longer than necessary. But he can’t bring himself to touch Neil, in the condition he’s in. 

Neil pulls himself out of the shower, flashing his bared body to Andrew in all of its broken glory. At least he had already washed the cum off of him. Had scrubbed his skin raw, actually. The cuts and bruises all look irritated. 

Andrew turns immediately, his jaw ticking. He turns his back to Neil and instead stands in the doorway, as of guarding it. His fists are clenching, Neil can see it.

“Sorry.” Neils voice is a hoarse rasp. He had screamed too much; he knew it only egged them on, but Neil couldn’t help it. 

But Neil couldn’t help it. 

“We have to go. My father is coming to get me and we can’t be here when he does.” Neil’s voice is wrecked. His eyes look haunted and hollow, but primarily desperate. Andrew hadn’t lost him yet. 

There is no first aid kit and they don’t have time for it, even if there was. Andrew pulls clothes from drawers at random and helps Neil dress. His boyfriend is a fucking mess. 

“Come on. Lola will clean the mess. We have to go, Andrew.” 

“Oh?” A stranger voice from the open door. “Where are you going, Junior?” 

A woman with red hair and lips now leans against the doorway. Behind her is a man with red hair that looks startlingly like Neil. His father Nathan. And behind them, Riko and his gang of Ravens. 

Nathan surveyed the room, taking in the body count along with Neil’s battered appearance. “Did you make the mess, or was it your blonde pitbull?”

“Both, sir.” Neil’s voice is trembling and quiet. He’s staring at the floor, not even daring to look at the man. 

“Look at me when I speak to you, boy.” The man’s possessive snapping has Andrew’s temper flaring. He steps between Neil and his father, as if to shield him. 

Neil’s face jerks up, his eyes settling just below his father’s face, as if he still can’t bring himself to look the man in the eye. 

“Sorry sir.” 

“Mmm,” Lola purrs, a finger to her lips in playful contemplation. “That one, and that one, I think. The blonde looks like the stabby type. What do you say, Junior? Am I right?” 

They’re toying with them. Andrew just needs to bide more time. He only needs to stall until Renee can finish the plan. Just a little longer. 

Nathan pulls a butchers cleaver from the back of his pants. It’s old, it’s wooden handle miscounted by ages of blood. 

“I couldn’t bring the axe. Too obvious. But it’s at home waiting for you, Nathaniel. It’s time I tie up the last loose end. I tire of you disgracing me.” 

“No,” no whimpers. “Please no. Please. Just let us go. Dad, please.” 

The man snarls and the woman laughs. She looks quite pleased but Nathan looks disgusted. He takes a lunge at Andrew, because Andrew is in the way; and Andrew sure as fuck isn’t moving until these men are dead. 

Andrew has his own knife in his hand, and he shoves Neil back. Neil falls back with a cry. 

“Andrew!” 

They dance around each other until Andrew’s patience snaps and he moves. He cuts at the air where Nathan’s throat had just been, driving the man backward. Nathan may be tall and fast, but Andrew was shorter and faster. 

Andrew earns a couple of cuts from close calls but he lands more than he receives. Nathan is as getting slow in his old age. 

Nathan had a twisted grin on his face. He was enjoying the little game of cat and mouse that they were playing. Nathan took a step forward, and Andrew would either hold his ground and counter, or dodge; depending on where Neil was. He made sure to keep himself between father and son. 

“You got yourself a decent mutt, Nathaniel. It’s a shame I’ll have to put him down now.” 

“Nathan and Nathaniel?” Andrew scoffs. “Ego much?”

It wiped the smirk from the man’s face. When he lunges at Andrew again, Andrew trips him up with his foot and catches the man’s shoulder with his blade. It costs him a decent gash to his shoulder from the cleaver but they just need time. 

A shot rings out. Andrew hadn’t seen Lola move, but she wasn’t he one with the gun. Neil holds the sight on her, even as the red blooms across her chest and she falls. 

Nathan snarls the same time that Neil yells, and Andrew drops. Another shot echoes the ringing in their ears. Nathan joins Lola and Andrew on the floor. Andrew stands. The other two do not. 

“How dare you?” Riko is screaming madly. A couple of his men had run off during the fighting but the rest had been afraid to funnel in the door to Andrew. There were corpses littering the floor now and blood stained every inch of carpet. Andrew is bloody and menacing, adjusting his grip on the blades. 

“You better make your next words count, Riko. Because I am going to tear you apart.” 

Andrew is high on the adrenaline and the need to protect. Even without staring at Neil, even with his boyfriend dressed and safely behind him Andrew knows what damage the demon in front of him has done. The bruises; the gashes and burns; the bleed on the sheets and bruises on the intimate places on Neil’s flesh. 

Riko had touched what was his, and had left marks. Andrew would stand no more. 

“Neil.” Andrew holds his hand for the gun. Riko has his own pointed at them but he’s too busy screaming obscenities to pull the trigger. A mad man’s ravings, reminiscent of a tantrum. 

“Andrew, wait. The cops are here.” 

Behind Andrew, beside Neil, is a window. Several cop cars pull up, lights flashing. They both recognize Allison’s pink convertible, and the rainbow haired woman driving it. Renee had brought the Calvary.


	36. Chapter 36

Neil looks like shit. The hospital bed is too big for his emancipated little frame, and he looks sickly pale even against the white of the sheets. The burn marks are all bandaged. He looks like a mummy but Andrew knows what Neil looks like beneath them; black bruises across nearly every inch of him. They had his arm up in a sling so he couldn’t move it. They had to operate on him, for the shoulder, broken hand, and internal damage. 

Nobody had told Andrew anything, but he knew it meant that they had torn Neil badly inside. Anal fissures and tearing. At least Neil was doped on pain meds. Otherwise he would probably be climbing the walls. Normally Neil was a ball of smart mouthed energy when he wasn’t napping. But then again, he had been injected with heroin for three weeks, so he probably wouldn’t be his usual annoying self even if he was awake. 

 

******

 

“It will take about a week to detox from the heroin, but you are in no shape to go to a rehabilitation center. We will be keeping you here until you’re fit to go home.” 

It was better than the rehab, at least to Andrew. Due to the sensitive nature of Neil’s injuries he had a private room. Kevin’s fat wallet may have helped sway the decision. 

“We will keep you on a milder pain reliever, so you don’t trade one addiction for the next; along with a cocktail of things to help ease the effects of the detox.”

“What about Kevin and Andrew?” Neil asks. His voice is hoarse from disuse. He mostly sleeps. 

“Your…. friends… can come during visiting hours.” 

Neil frowns. “They’re my boyfriends.” 

“No special allowances I’m afraid.” The doctor is waspish but Neil is too tired to argue. He lets Andrew glower the woman out of the room and settles back into the pillows. 

“It’s lunch time,” Kevin starts. “I was going to make green smoothies for us. Do you want anything from the apartment?” 

The doctors had Neil on a liquids diet. 

“Some clothes. Can you bring me some hoodies?” Neil had been alternating between sweating and freezing since he woke up from surgery. “I don’t know.” 

“Sure. I’ll take a look around and just bring anything I think you’ll need.” 

“Thanks.” 

Kevin wants to kiss Neil’s cheek, but he looks so fragile in that bed that he’s afraid to. Instead, he gives a little wave as he leaves. 

Andrew can see that Neil is exhausted. It’s from more than just the drugs, he knows. His body is healing from a lot of trauma and it’s demanding rest. But Neil fights his fatigue, stubbornly stifling a yawn behind his one good hand. A couple of fingers were splinted, but the hand in the sling had been casted. 

“How are the cats?” 

“They’re cats. Resilient little bastards. Renee has been catsitting the furballs during the day.” 

“Good. They shouldn’t be lonely while you two are here with me.” 

“They’re cats, Neil. They’ll be fine. Thank god we didn’t get a dog or you would be unbearable.” Andrew scoffs. He has a chair set up right beside Neil’s bed. He can see Neil’s eyes droop before he snaps them open again. This lasts for several minutes before Andrew has enough. 

“Go to sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Neil mumbles. “Missed you.” 

“Your body needs sleep to heal.” 

“Lay down with me?”

Andrew raises his eyebrows minutely, unimpressed with his boyfriends stupidity. “Don’t push yourself.” 

“Yes or no?”

Neil is already in the process of scouting himself to make room. Andrew is significantly more braud than Neil is, but neither of them are by any means considered to be large men. There would be room. 

“Yes.” Andrew is careful not to jostle Neil as he climbs onto the bed. It tugs at his own stitches but Andrew doesn’t mind the pain. 

Neil sighs heavily beside him, content. His eyes droop, and this time they stay closed. When his head drops onto Andrew’s shoulder, Andrew lets him stay there. He rests his cheek on the top of Neil’s hair and plays the vigilant sentry. 

 

******

 

Matt and Dan come visit. Neil is asleep but he startled awake with the knock on the door. Andrew is about to snap the the nurse before he realizes it’s just them. Neil will be glad to see them as soon as his heart slows so Andrew doesn’t shove them out. 

“Hi,” Neil ribs at his eyes with one hand. Now that the confusion is gone he looks fairly awake. More coherent than earlier, anyway. Andrew runs his hands through the messy mop of hair. It’s tangled. He ignores dan and Matt in favor of texting Kevin. Hopefully he hasn’t left home yet, or at least had the sense to pack a brush. 

“Hey buddy!” Matt is beaming. 

“Hi sweety. How are you feeling?” 

“I’m fine.” His voice is a little slurred from either the drugs or the sleep. He can’t tell. His head is pretty muddy too. It isn’t as bad as the heroin made him feel, but he doesn’t like it. It reminds him of a concussion. He’ll, he might have a concussion. He wasn’t really listening when the doctor listed off his injuries. 

“Neil.” Andrew nudges him. It sounds like Dan has said his name a few times before but he hadn’t heard her. 

“They have him on some good stuff right now. They’ll switch him to a milder medication tomorrow,” Andrew explains. 

Dan shakes her head and Matt frowns. He’s looking at the bandages on the veins of Neil’s elbows. Matt has the same ones, but older. He had quit the hard stuff for Dan. He reaches a hand out to Neil’s shoulder. 

“Don’t,” Andrew snaps. “Don’t touch him.”

“Fuck of, Andrew. He’s our friend. We won’t hurt him.” 

Dan argues everything Andrew says. There’s a reason he can’t stand her. And Matt is giving them all the pathetic puppy look. 

“And I’m saying no.” 

“Fine, whatever,” Matt is quick to interrupt. “We just game to see you. And give you this.” 

Matt has a backpack over his shoulder. He shrugs it off and digs inside. He pulls out the fuzziest stuffed fox Neil has ever seen. It has a round little body and comically large ears; big black eyes and a long plush tail. Matt hands it to him and it’s just like holding one of the cats at home. It is soft and round and Neil can cradle it to his chest with one arm without it wiggling away. 

“Thanks.” Neil’s grin pulls at the scars on his cheeks. They burn, even through the drugs, but Neil loves his friends. “I really like it.”

“I’m glad. And we thought you might be sick of the hospital crap already, so we made this.” 

It’s just a bowl of fruit but Neil’s eyes light up. Andrew wonders what kind of crap they had been feeding him back in that shitty hotel. If anything. He looked like a prisoner of war. 

Neil grabs for the bowl and Andrew has to stop him. “He can’t have that.”

“What?”

“The doctors have him on a liquid only diet for five more days.”

All three faces fall and Dan flares at him. It’s not like Andrew enjoys denying him food. He rolls his eyes. 

“Sorry. Next time we’ll bring you a nice smoothie, how about that?” 

“That’s fine. Thanks.”

“Okay. Well Renee and Allison are waiting outside so we’ll go. But I’ll be back tomorrow.” Matt desperately looks like he wants to hug Neil. Thankfully he knows better. “We’re so glad you’re back. Both of you.”

Renee and Allison replace them. Allison quips about Neil’s messy hair and Renee and Andrew communicate quietly through looks. He owes her for her help. He won’t forget. Neil tires quickly and so the women don’t stay long before they leave. They leave behind them the biggest cluster of balloons that either of the boys has ever seen. It took them several minutes to coax them through the door. They float tethered to the side of Neil’s bed, colored and sparkly, Allison had the sense not to have any say ‘get well’. 

Neil falls asleep as soon as the girls are out the door. Kevin isn’t back yet and Andrew suspects that he would shower and nap while he had the apartment to himself. Neil’s disappearing act had taken its told on everyone, and Kevin had taken it harder than anyone would have suspected. He had cried when Andrew called him from the hospital, and again when he saw Neil for the first time in weeks. He had been fresh out of surgery and Kevin had to leave the room to compose himself. Andrew had let him hide in the bathroom as king as he pleased. It was the first time the three of them had been in one room in too long, and Andrew had savored it. 

Kevin wakes Neil again several hours later. He had two green shakes, he wasn’t dumb enough to bother trying to get Andrew to drink them. But they both knew that Neil desperately needs all the healthy crap that Kevin would have put in the shake. He also hands Neil a bag of clothes that consisted mostly of sweatpants and hoodies. A lot of Kevin and Andrew’s clothes got thrown in the mix too. 

 

******

 

Neil had a panic attack the next day. Andrew is surprised it took so long. He would have thought Neil would wake up screaming the first day, but apparently he was exhausted and drugged enough that his dreams were undisturbed.

Andrew is sitting in the chair reading while Kevin is napping in bed with Neil. The drawing pad and pencil lay abandoned in Neil’s lap where they had been when Neil had dozed off. 

He takes the quiet moment to trace the lines on his idiots faces. They looked good together, pressed side to side on the bed. Neil’s head was on Kevin’s chest, and Kevin had one arm around Neil and the other around a fat fox plushie. 

So Andrew sees when Neil jerks awake. He wakes up terrified even before he realizes someone is touched him. He must have been having a nightmare. But then his mind registers an arm around his hips and something looming over him. It’s the shadow of the balloons in the dimmed lights, distorted from Andrew’s reading light. From Neil’s angle it must look like a group of heads. 

Neil throws himself off the bed with a scream. Kevin reacts similarly, flailing suddenly and rolling himself off the other side of the bed. 

“Neil,” Andrew tries to grab his attention but his voice never works. 

Normally he would get Neil’s attention by touching the safest place Andrew can think of- the back of his neck. But I’m his current condition, he isn’t sure that would be the best idea. 

Thankfully Neil stops before he reaches the door. He turns the lights up again and realizes that yes, he knows this room and these boys and he’s safe here. He lets Andrew come close and hold the back of his neck. 

“I- I thought….” Neil stops, pinching his lip between his teeth. The stitches there pull and bleed. 

Andrew watches his face crumble. Neil closes his eyes against the well of tears but he can’t stop them escaping. Just like he can’t stop his heart from thundering in his chest or his throat from closing up right. His knees buckle and Neil slides down with his back protected by the wall. 

“Kevin, get a nurse.” Andrew says lowly. Neil tore out his IV in his panic and he’s bleeding. It may add a few more stitches in the endless count. 

“Come here,” Andrew whispers to Neil. 

He opens his arms in offering and is a little surprised that Neileans into him. Neil’s body shakes with the remains of his panic. Andrew can feel every shaking breath in his back as Neil buried his face in Andrew’s chest and grasps desperately at his shirt, as if afraid to let Andrew go. 

Neil sniffles into Andrew’s shirt for a long time. Andrew’s shoulder is damp from it, and Neil begins to hiccup. Only when his breath calms, save the occasional hiccup, does andrew get them to stand. He helps Neil to the bed and offers to lie down with him, whispering a ‘yes or no’. Neil nods, and he quietly mumbles a quick yes. His head drops down against Andrew. 

The nurse comes and bandages Neil. She offers him some more medications, kinder than Andrew would have expected, considering her frown wrinkles. But maybe Neil is a special case. Andrew has noticed that Neil only gets female nurses and doctors. 

Kevin and Andrew both urge Neil to accept the sleep aides and he agrees easily enough. Within moments he’s drooling on Andrew. More biking fluids on his shirt. Andrew doesn’t mind. 

 

******

It doesn’t take long for Andrew to notice the new quirk. A few more days pass and Neil has worn some mix of Andrew and Kevin’s clothes. He hasn’t touched any of his own, though that’s what Kevin had packed the most of. He seems to have an aversion to his own clothes and instead swamps himself in Kevin’s sweaters and Andrew’s pants. 

Some of his color has come back at least. Neil isn’t as pale anymore, thanks to the food and rest. The older bruises slowly fade but the newest ones still stand dark against his skin. His hair isn’t as tangled as it had been, and Andrew brushed Neil’s hair several times a day- because it knots easily when Neil is laying down to much, not because he loves how soft it is in his hands. 

 

******

 

Then a week has passed and Neil is cleared to leave. They staff reminds Andrew and Kevin to help Neil remember his medications, including an anti-anxiety. He’s suffocating in Kevin’s shirt and hoodie, and Andrew’s sweats. He was stuck wearing sweatpants until they took out the stitches on his legs. At least he could walk without limping. The stitches had been done well and they don’t bother him much when he walks. 

Andrew has the car and Kevin lets Neil sit in front without complaint. Neil showers first. He tears off turns the water up as hot as he dares. His skin blushes red and irritated, and it gets angrier the more Neil scrubs. His legs get the worst of it. He avoided the stitches, but the few bits of clear skin are now bleeding again from the vigorous scouring. It’s Andrew threatening to break the door down that finally has Neil dropping the brush and unlocking the door. 

Andrew takes off the soaked wraps while he grumbles about Neil being an idiot, and rebandages all of Neil’s injuries with dry gauze. He unwraps the plastic from around his splinted fingers and arm. He can start taking the sling off soon, for short periods of time. Just a few minutes at a time first, building up to a couple of hours until eventually he won’t have to wear it anymore. 

Andrew helps him dress. It’s kind, and Neil keeps insisting that he’s fine but Andrew doesn’t care. Neil is not fine and he and Kevin were going to make sure Neil would progress to actually being fine. So he helps his idiot boyfriend into a pair of Kevin’s flannel pajama pants, rolled up at the feet so Neil doesn’t trip. Paired with Andrew’s shirt and a hoodie that Neil can’t remember the origins of. Maybe it had been Matt’s? He doesn’t know. 

Kevin is ordering something spicy now that the cuts in Neil’s mouth have healed. The nurse had taken the stitches in his lip out before they released him. So there isn’t any danger of the spices burning Neil’s mouth. He’s actually looking forward to having something with flavor. Even after he had been cleared to have solid foods they had been bland, soft things- mashed potatoes and boiled vegetables and light soups. 

They put in a movie and have the food delivered so they can stay inside. Andrew demands something that can hold his attention- probably an action movie, then. And Kevin wants something with history. Neil lets them bicker, happy to sit between them and munch an oatmeal cookie that Renee had brought them. Oatmeal cookies for Kevin and Neil, double chocolate for Andrew. 

The decide on Inglorious Bastards before the food arrives and then have to pause the movie when Kevin’s phone rings. 

“Hello?” 

“Oh. Yes, thank you. Okay, I will. Thanks again, bye.” It was a short conversation. 

“That was the lawyer. He had the court date moved up to next week. He think that the judge seeing your injuries will help in your favor.”

Neil blanches. He’ll have to see Riko, and the Ravens. He had given his statement to the police as soon as he was semi lucid, but he actually has to see Riko to press charges. 

“Don’t panic,” Andrew’s says. His hand goes to the back of Neil’s neck with a warm pressure. Kevin holds his hand gently, mindful of his fingers. 

“If you can survive Riko, you can survive a court hearing.” Kevin sounds steady and sure for once. 

And Neil knows they’re right. He should’ve be afraid of Riko now. His father is dead. Lola is dead. He’s already been through the worst, and he has Kevin and Andrew beside him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, yeah. A lame ending. But I needed this monster off my back. I have something new coming up soon and I’m super excited to share it with you guys!!

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think so far?? Thoughts? Comments stir up my plot bunnies! Let me know!! As always, thanks so much for reading!!!


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